The Fateless
by praise-bees
Summary: Mimette Malachite has always felt lucky to be alive in the way that she is. She was born into an incredible life with every opportunity Erudite had to offer lying at her feet. But in a desperate attempt to escape her family's shadow she makes a choice that changes everything and throws who she was meant to be to the wind.
1. Chapter 1: Familiar Tunes

Nearly five hundred years ago this city became the safe haven for our ancestors. The founders of our city came here to start a life and rebuild society. We're lucky to be alive within these walls, there's almost nothing left from back then but we all know that nothing good lies beyond the city; some say that a war still rages on, others say that there's nothing at all just wasteland as far as the eye can see. All that we have of the founders, our ancestors, are the doctrines they wrote for us; six separate documents to detail how we are supposed to live once they're no longer alive to explain it. The first five are unique to the individual factions, manifestos for how their respective people are to live; and the sixth is for the city at large, the document detailing how we're meant to live in harmony, always separate but united in our need for peace. We may not know how our founders sounded, looked, how they were as people rather than legends; but we know what they believed and we know what they wanted for us, it's all that we can do to live up to the plan they designed.

We all a part to play; each of us knows where we belong. We exist in five factions; the Abnegation the selfless; are our civil servants and the chief governing party because they aren't in politics for personal gain, the Candor are the honest; are our justice system they're the most honest they always tell the truth, the Amity are good and kind; they farm the land and care for those who can't care for themselves, the Dauntless are brave; they protect us from threats inside and outside our walls; they protect everyone, and the Erudite; they value knowledge, they know everything. The Erudite are my people; I was lucky to be born into a faction that encouraged me to work hard and to learn. But I'm not sure if I can be happy here, I love to think but I admire the Dauntless more than anything. I want to help people just like they do.

By the time my alarm goes off I'm already awake, sitting sideways in my desk chair with my feet up on the wood and messing around on my laptop. I'm nowhere near ready to go, naturally, still in my pajamas and my hair a curly mess framing my face.

The lights brighten with the alarm and I squint at the change. "Computer," I say, "stop."

The alarm falls silent. I sit there for a few minutes before closing my laptop and getting up. The very first thing I do is put last night's school stuff in my bag. I'm not the most forgetful person, but I also don't like to leave anything until the last minute.

It's not a bad workload, not for an Erudite anyways; we're expected to work hard so really nothing but the truly insane seems too bad. That said, I know more people than I can count that gladly take on the truly insane just because they enjoy it. My family members come to mind.

But I'm not someone who relishes in pushing themselves to the breaking point, even if it means not being the best the world's ever seen. I'm plenty competitive and even more ambitious, I don't like the feeling of just sitting around doing nothing. But I like being able to sleep at night and devoting my time to more than classes and homework.

"Computer, run me a shower."

I grab my robe and walk down the hall to the bathroom accompanied by the smell of cooking eggs and coffee, and a metal spatula scraping against the pan. The voices of my parents drift up as well, but I'm too tired to lean over the floors railing and greet them.

"Computer," I say as I get in the shower, "play me something."

The music sounds strange in the acoustics of the shower, but I like this song. I close my eyes and let the already hot water run over my back.

"Computer, what day is it?"

"Today is September first."

I sigh. "Fuck." I want to just relax and pretend like it's another weekday morning, but I know that I can't. The Aptitude Test is held today, which every other year has just marked the last day of school which was also one hell of a scheduling nightmare what with the shortened classes and general end of the year chaos. Today it marks my last real day as a child. Today I'll take the test that will decide my fate and tomorrow I will follow through with that decision. No one is obligated to of course, but it would be stupid of me not to. Besides, I already know that it will say.

At least I hope I do.

I've taken to reminding myself that I am Erudite, that I belong here, that I will follow the life set out for me. But there's this niggling little thought in the back of my mind, the notion that there's something better out there.

I try to just chalk it up to my eldest brother and sister transferring. They left and I've never looked at anything the same since, not my home and not the factions they chose. They're the reason that I don't feel quite completed here, that and I've been toeing the line between Erudite and Amity all my life. My family doesn't believe in _faction before blood _, we haven't for generations and because of that the fourth of my family that resides in Amity has always remained pretty close. We see them and they see us and it's fun; a little unorthodox, but fun. I've grown up knowing endless grass fields, orchards, and sunshine just as much as I have knowing glass skyscrapers, massive libraries, and soda breweries that have pamphlets explaining the chemical reactions of their process.

My eldest brother – Mark – crossed that line, my middle sister and brother – Melanie and Michael – chose to stick with our side of the fence so to speak, and my eldest sister – Minerva – rejected the dichotomy entirely to run away to Candor. To marble floors, loud voices, bare faces; and she's the odd one out.

I won't do that. I love her, but I don't really like her faction all that much. She's done great things there as the representative, nothing short of everything she could to better the lives of people within her faction and relations with people beyond.

You would think that having family serving on the Faction Council as well – a brother and a mother – might make things easier; it doesn't. We don't mix family and business, we would fall apart if we did. Just because they have blood ties doesn't mean that they always agree, though the thought does make people a little antsy. One family making up roughly a third of a governing body doesn't make anyone anything but nervous. Family members being within a general proximity of the council makes people nervous and given that my father and other siblings skirt the edges of the council as other leadership within Erudite, my family makes people nervous. But the clear-cut separation of the factions for once works in our favor, allows them to maintain their positons without constantly wading in controversy.

Mostly. There's…other things, for all that we don't like to mix family and business I'm never exactly out of the loop about the council's affairs. My parents talk to each other and to me about it almost daily, they indulge each and every one of my questions and confusions about the intricacies of inter-faction politics.

A two-toned beep interrupts the music and my thoughts, the tell-tale sign of the computer about to speak or ready to listen. "It is now four-forty-five."

"Computer," I say, "turn the water off."

If I don't get going soon, my parents will be gone for work before I get a chance to see them. Wouldn't exactly be the first time it's happened.

I plug in the hairdryer and turn it on after wringing out my hair and sliding on my robe. It turns my hair into a frizzy, curly mess but it's a _dry _, frizzy, curly mess. I run the comb and three different kinds of product through it before pinning it back with half a dozen bobby pins, a hairtie, and a clip then hair-spraying it all.

If that seems a little much for just a school day, Erudite places nearly as much importance on physical beauty as we do on academic prowess. Someone who looks frazzled and not well put together is clearly lacking in either the motivation or time management skills to be otherwise. Anyone can be pretty with a little bit of effort and Erudite expects that effort.

I walk back to my room and pull an outfit from my closet that I find suitable for both autumn chill and my own style preferences. Then I switch on the lit mirror and start on my makeup. Aside from being an unspoken requirement, I just find that the practice of doing my makeup every morning is a calming ritual - though I guess anything can be when you've been doing it for years. I don't look like my family, I don't have their brown eyes or tall stature. We all have the same black hair though and I'm not as light as the twins - who take after our father more. But I don't look like our mother either. I just look like me.

I finally go downstairs when that's done, my bag slung over my shoulder, only to find that my father is already gone and my mother is sitting alone at the dining room table. She has her tablet in front of her, reading over something as she drinks her coffee but she looks up at the sound of my footsteps.

"Good morning, Mimette."

"Hi, Mom." I sit down at the table. "Where's Dad?"

"He had to leave early for work, Choosing Ceremony coming up and all." She gets up and walks into the kitchen to get me a cup of coffee and scrape the last of the eggs from the pan onto a plate. "You just missed him in fact. He said to tell you good luck and that he loves you very much."

"Are you guys busy today?" I ask.

They're busy every day, but some days are better than others and I hope that they can at least be home with me tonight.

She hums in thought. "Provided nothing goes horrendously wrong, my schedule is relatively tame. I should be home by…let's say eight at the latest." I know good and well that I can't hold her to that, that as the faction representative she doesn't have the luxury of putting her family first and has to do pretty much whatever's asked of her. Mostly working late into the night on whatever the latest upset with the council is – be it the Faction Council or the Abnegation one, or meetings with the other branches of Erudite's leadership.

She sets my plate and coffee down in front of me and then reclaims her seat at the head of the table.

I've come to dislike how empty it seems, meant to seat ten and almost never seating more than four. Ever since my siblings moved out our huge house has felt too empty, for me at least. Their bedrooms have been repurposed, all the space makes this place the ideal place to hold parties, and everyone can for the most part do as they please without disturbing anyone else. Still, I miss being little and surrounded by the warmth of a half dozen and then some people always around.

If it bothers my parents too, they don't show it.

"So." My mother sets her tablet down, leaning forward on the table just slightly.

"So," I repeat, taking a bite of my eggs.

"Aptitude Test."

I nod and swallow. "Uh, yeah, that's today."

"Are you feeling okay?"

_If I say no, can I stay home? _I think. But I say, "Uh, yeah. I'm…excited." I force a smile that I'm sure doesn't come out quite right.

She touches my arm. "Don't be nervous. Everything's going to be just fine."

I nod again, quietly not believing her. Maybe for her it was, but she's the perfect Erudite, my whole immediate family is so _perfect _and it kills me to think that I might wind up the disappointment. Mark and Minerva may have left, but they've done things with their life that we're all proud of; they're perfect in their factions.

But I'm not perfect. I'm trying, I really am.

I avoid any obligation to keep the conversation going by taking a long drink of my coffee. Cinnamon, my father's favorite.

"Are you coming straight home after school?" she asks.

I shrug. "I don't know. I might hang out with Casey and Eliza if they want to. Why, is there something you need me to do?"

"No, I figured that I'd ask though." She stands, tucking her tablet under her arm. "I should get going. I love you, have a wonderful day, try not to be so nervous." She kisses the top of my head as she passes me.

"Love you too." I wave to her as she disappears out the front door.

If I could, I would stay here all day and avoid the test all together. But after I finish my food I drag myself to my feet and rinse my dishes in the sink. With every minute that passes the dread in the pit of my stomach grows and grows.

I'm scared of what the test will tell me, I'm scared of choosing wrong, I'm scared of not being able to live up to my family's legacy no matter where I go. I've had sixteen years do decide what I want and I still don't know, I really just want to be happy. But that's not enough, not in the world I live in and not for the family I come from. I cannot be the one child that fails to amount to anything.

Heaving one more sigh, I turn the sink off and grab my bag, then walk out the door.

I don't want to do this, in fact I would rather be doing pretty much anything but this. But like it or not, today is the day that I face my fate.

At the edge of the Erudite sector where it melds into City Center, the common area of the five factions where the government buildings and most of the businesses are, is the upper levels campus. The mid-levels campus is a few blocks down but lower levels, from early childhood to about ten, are taught at the discretion of the individual factions. Mid-levels and upper levels are one of the many responsibilities of Erudite. In mid-levels, from about eleven to thirteen, kids from all five factions and factionless are taught in the same building but classes are still separated by faction. In upper levels, we're all just thrown together on one multi-building campus. Of course, in the first year no one knows how to deal with each other and no one knows how to act but as we get older...well actually scratch that, the Dauntless and Candor still don't know how to act; but to an extent we can put up with each other. Each faction is a separate entity with its own ideas of how people should and shouldn't behave and so of course there's going to be some clashing. Dauntless are brash, Candor are impolite, but Amity and Abnegation are pretty alright. Despite their obvious flaws, I think that both Dauntless and Candor are pretty okay. I'm not like my parents or the twins, who hold an obvious distaste for everything that's not Erudite.

Except for my siblings of course.

Upper levels runs all the way through age eighteen but only the first two years are mandatory, something about us being allowed to plan for our own lives or something. There are many who just choose not to return and let today be the last day of school for the rest of their lives but there are others who move onto the collage in the Erudite sector called Oxford. In fact, for us Erudite's it's a requirement. Though the school is mostly Erudite and Candor there are a smattering of miscellaneous students from Amity and Dauntless, Abnegation never attend because to be educated is to be selfish or _whatever _.

The upper levels campus isn't very big, it's one large building where all of the general classes are held surrounded by multiple smaller buildings where more specialized subjects are including the science labs, the gymnasium, and the library. It's easy to mistake this place for being part of the Erudite sector, my faction designed it. Most of the buildings in City Center were designed by the five factions together; a tangible symbol of faction unity. Some of the buildings are very old, left standing after the pre-faction war and made new again. Others were built after the fact, up from the rubble and the ash decades or even centuries ago; while some were completed just a few years, or even a few months ago. Things are always changing in the city, here and everywhere.

I walk to one of the larger of the side buildings with three stories made mostly of glass, the performing arts building. I know that in the back is a beautiful auditorium where the student recitals are held. I've performed on that stage a few times before, both during solo performances and with the student orchestra. I've played the cello since I was ten because my parents wanted me to take up an instrument so that I could be more well-rounded. I guess that I enjoy it, it's a nice way to destress and the other people in the orchestra always sound so good. No one is really committed to it except for the older kids, the ones who have already chosen their factions, the ones who are considering actually doing something with it. I don't know if I might, after tomorrow I might never play again. I guess it all depends on where I go.

After my cello practice is over I start to make my way toward the main building. The sun is higher in the sky and I can see other people starting to go toward the same building. As I'm walking someone wraps their arm around my shoulders, drawing me in close to them.

"Good morning, Mimette," Cassandra – though she prefers Casey – Diarmond says as I turn my head to look at her.

She beams at me, bright eyed despite the early hour. I've never been a morning person, but Casey is sort of an all hours of the day and night person.

She and I have been friends since we were four, we met during preschool and she was the first friend that I ever had and one of the few friends I have now. I tend to stick to my own, the people that surround my family. Casey's father and my parents are something like friends and the two of us are often shooed away from dinner parties and other social events along with all the other children. It used to annoy me, now I dislike so many of my parents' acquaintances and friends that it would be something like a mercy if their kids weren't just as bad if not worse.

Casey is one of the few I know that is genuinely kind, she always has been. I can imagine that's why she hates it here so much.

"Hey Casey, how are you?"

She shrugs, "I'm well. The Aptitude Tests are today. Are you excited?"

"Well, uh…no."

She nods, "I mean the worst that could happen is that they tell you to leave, right?"

I wish it were as simple for me as it is for her. She has every reason to hate her father, he's a monster, and she has no love for the general culture here for good reason; it's competitive, and cold, and built on vanity and cruelty. But for every flaw I see, I find something that I love. The little pockets of warmth that exist here – within my friends, within my family – it makes my faction easier to love.

I don't know how I could ever leave, but I'm not entirely convinced I can survive if I stay.

"Uh…sure?" I try at that half smile again. I think it comes out worse than the last time.

Her arm tightens around my shoulders, tugging me against her as she giggles. I instinctively wrap my arm around her waist in response. "Mim, you're gonna be fine. _We're _gonna be fine." She drops her voice. "You've always been Erudite, I've always been Amity. All the test really does is confirm what we already know."

I don't bother to argue with her about it, to tell her the truth that I _don't know _. I've avoided thinking about it and avoided thinking about it because it bothered me that thinking of myself as Erudite never has quite felt just right, as accurate as it could be. But nothing else does either and really even thinking too long about leaving puts my stomach in knots.

Nothing's ever just come naturally to me, Erudite or otherwise. I have to try at everything I do and I genuinely don't understand people who have 'natural talents' or whatever. In Erudite we say that everybody has a '_ niche _', something that they're just naturally kind of good at and the idea is that you find your niche and stick to it. Casey's niche is botany – because of course it is, my mother's is politics, Melanie's is psychology, Michael's is engineering. Hell, it applies outside of Erudite too; Mark's niche is diplomacy, Minerva's is law. It doesn't even have to be an academic skill; Maureen – Michael's wife – hers is figure skating, and my father…well he's just a people person.

But everything that I'm good at, I'm good at because I did everything I possibly could to become good at it. I'm well rounded because I like to learn and accomplished because I'm relentless. Not as relentless as other people that I know, but pretty relentless.

We walk through the double doors into the crowded main building. I can see all of the colors blurring together; black, red and yellow, blue, gray, black and white, all in one place. I've been fighting my way through these crowded hallways for years and before this year today used to excite me. It was the last day of school and then I was free for a whole three months to do what I wanted when I wanted. It meant that I was free to spend the day with my friends doing something or just doing nothing at all. I was free to hang around my mother and Jeanine, following them like a shadow and doing what little I could to help. It meant that I could just hang around and have the house to myself all day while my mother and father were at work.

But all year I have been dreading this day. I've known this was coming and I've known it was coming but I was hoping that I might just ignore it and keep things business as usual. To just try and be relaxed and not think about it, and I succeeded for the most part. Of course, there were times when I stressed about the impending doom that is the aptitude test, but who didn't?

"Hey Cas-" What I was about to say is cut off when a smaller form slams into me, knocking us both to the ground. I look up and a small, thin Abnegation girl is picking herself up off the ground. The girl's bag is knocked away from her and as she reaches for it in the crowded hallway a tall Candor boy kicks it further from her. I stand and pick it up for her, shouldering my way through the crowd.

"Thanks," she says softly. "Sorry about that."

"It's fine." I look around and I can't see Casey anywhere. The congested hallway is beginning to thin around us as people go to their classes.

I don't bother to keep looking for her, instead continuing to make my way toward Advanced Language Arts. I pause by one of the long windows, slowing my walk to a crawl that keeps me going but I can also pay attention to what's going on outside. A train races by the grass courtyard, shining silver in the morning sun and silent from inside the noisy building. I watch in wonder as dozens of teenagers clad in black leap from the train in packs, running off their momentum or rolling on the ground. Some push each other around playfully and I can tell by the way that they move that they are speaking loudly.

Dauntless and Abnegation are the only two factions I don't have family in. My parents can't stand the Dauntless, they think that they're too loud, too brutish, too vulgar. I think that they're fascinating; they all look so happy the way that they are, happy in a way that so many in Erudite don't look. Dauntless seems like an infinitely warmer place that Erudite. Does that mean I would join them? Well no, I mean I don't think so; I've never really considered it much. Even watching them as I do sometimes I'm still not entirely sure if I'm awestruck and admiring or just intrigued. I really wish that we learned more about other factions; I think that it would be a lot easier for me to choose if I knew what I was getting into. Although I think that's the opposite of the point; we're supposed to choose our faction because that is what we are, because we are intelligent, kind, honest, selfless, or brave and not because we want all the perks that come with being that. I know that there are great differences between every faction, that each lives to best suit their virtue. Erudite, as an essential and enriching faction with a hand in everyone's lives and also being one of the largest factions, lives in luxury. Prosperity is our priority, always striving for more and better and pushing ourselves farther for our own gain. Abnegation says that makes us selfish, not that I care. I know that I will never be Abnegation. Still, their suggestion is annoying; it's not just about that they say it, it's how they say it. With the insinuation that they are somehow infallible because they alone are free from desires, that even the Amity will take drastic measures for their own gain if they thought it would make them happy. Now of course, Abnegation are not to insult others it goes against their code of conduct. Doesn't mean it doesn't happen, they're just obnoxiously polite about it. If they really didn't fight, then Erudite wouldn't have the problems with Abnegation that we do. I know that watching the Dauntless is foolish, useless, and childish. I know that I have places to be. I'm not like the Dauntless; it's useless thinking about it. I don't want to think about the other factions at all, that should make it easier to stay, right? That isn't to say I haven't thought about joining Mark or Minerva, but I just don't know how I could ever leave my parents and everything that I've ever known. I don't know how to quell this feeling of dissatisfaction, this hunger for more inside of me. I don't know what I want, but I want it more than anything in the world and it's driving me nuts.

I turn away from the window and walk toward my first class.

I don't have to think about it right now. The next four or so hours are business as usual.

And then I will have the answer to all of the questions I've been asking myself.


	2. Chapter 2: Who Are You?

The tests begin after lunch. I won't be taking any of my afternoon classes today so I'll have plenty of time to think about my choice. We mostly did nothing in class; one would think that the teachers would want to cram all they could into one last lesson because for some of us this will be our last day of school for the rest of our lives, but that would be wrong. It was mostly just parting words and free time. This was everyone else's last day of the school year too, but they'll be back again and they also got to leave before lunch. We're stuck here until at least the end of the school day barring some sort of illness or injury. No one knows what the test because we're not supposed to be told, so none of us know what to expect.

I sit between Casey and my other friend; Elizabeth Reynolds, known to most as Eliza. Eliza is a bit arrogant to say the very least. She always has been, but it's not like she doesn't have a reason to be. She's is highly intelligent and has a knack for navigating life with a certain sensibility and grace that I could never amount to. She radiates elegance in every aspect of her life, a product of her upbringing I guess – though that just raises the question why I can't be like that because we grew up together. Like Casey and I, Eliza was born to powerful people. Her father, Jason, is a very well-respected researcher in his field and works very closely with the head of the head of the pharmacology department. Her mother, Cynthia, owns the largest makeup company in the city; it's branched out from just being an Erudite business to opening a shop in City Center where people of all factions can go.

In some ways, Eliza reminds me a lot of Melanie. Melanie's kind of arrogant too but totally has a reason to be with how smart she is, and Eliza has that same drive to know everything that they can about everything. But Eliza's greatest interests lie in chemistry and software engineering, both careers that Erudite always needs new people in.

I met Eliza when we were seven at one of my parents' many dinner parties after the adults shooed away the kids so they could drink and talk without being disturbed. I like her a lot; I always have. She's funny and she's got this energy about her that repulses some and draws in others. She's one of the really competitive Erudite, but neither of us really feel like we have to compete with each other or Casey. We're all totally secure in our friendship and we all know where we stand. It's not that Casey and I aren't smart enough to keep up with Eliza because we definitely are, it's just that neither of us really want to compete against her like others do. She is our dearest friend and we're all just really invested in supporting each other. There's nothing that I wouldn't do for either of them, all that they have to do ask. And I know for certain that they feel the same about me.

Eliza twirls a lock of her silky black hair around her finger as she talks, her voice laced with haughty contempt. "Dahlia doesn't know what she's talking about and I'm more than happy to set her right if she would only get off her high horse and listen."

Eliza holds a particular disdain quite a few classmates of ours and from what I know, there are many that feel the same about her. She speaks of Dahlia often, and I can't say that I disagree with her. Like I said, some of the acquaintances I have are just terrible.

"She's so arrogant," Casey says. "And totally underserving."

"Mhm." Eliza nods in agreement. "I'm so sick of her acting like she's better than me or something."

"At least I'll never have to see her again after today," Casey says with a smile that contrasts the heavy nature of her statement that isn't lost on Eliza and I. But we all knew that this day was coming; we've known for years that Casey would leave us and, like me, Eliza is just glad that she's pursuing her own happiness.

"Ugh, Mimi and I are probably going to be stuck with her forever," Eliza says with a roll of her eyes.

No one wants to discuss our choices without certainty. But I'm the only one of my friends without it. Eliza knows and has always known that Erudite is where she truly belongs. It suits her, she loves it here and she knows how to excel in way that sort of scares me. Casey has always known that she's leaving and in recent months has begun to look toward Amity as her new home. I think that suits her too, I really do think that she'll be happy there.

Casey and Eliza sort of assume that I'm staying because of how deeply tied to the place I am and I don't have the nerve to tell them that I'm not sure. I want to tell them now, but there are too many other people around. I want to tell them now, but I don't want Eliza to freak out. I want to tell them now, but I'm still not sure if I'm not going to stick around. I wish that this were simpler; I wish there was some sort of 'idiot's guide to choosing a faction' or something, I think that would really help. Maybe the notion that knowing more would make my life easier means that I'm fated for Erudite. Maybe if I just keep repeating that I belong somewhere than eventually I will; maybe that's just how it works for everyone.

I do not think that is how it works for everyone.

My lack of response creates a pocket of awkwardness as Eliza and Casey both look to me to laugh with them and join their casual disparaging of Dahlia's character. Not that she doesn't totally have it coming.

Before I can force the awkward laugh from my throat and stumble over an agreement of how much it will suck to always be around Dahlia all the time, I receive a text from my sister that gives me an excuse to look away. Melanie asks me to lunch after I'm done with testing and I tell her that that sounds lovely. I might even be able to get some advice on what to do from her. Of course, Melanie always knew who she was going to be and where she belonged, I remember her always saying 'When I'm a member…' like there was never any alternative because for her I suppose there wasn't. I doubt there was one for Michael either; my reserved and studious brother who spent so much of his time holed up in his room studying long before he began initiation. Erudite is woven into the twins, and my parents, and Jeanine, and Eliza in a way that I wish it could be a part of me. I wish that I could just exude that energy, have that personality; I wish that I were just a little bit more like them so that I would know exactly what to do. They have all always known exactly what to do.

With Mark and Minerva my memories are always a little fuzzier. Honestly, I don't remember a lot of Mark before he was getting close to leaving. I wasn't around him like I was around the twins and I can't really remember him acting really 'like Amity'. He didn't act like my parents, I remember that, but I also knew enough about people to know that everyone was different. I hear how faction transfers always seem a little _off _before they leave, but I never saw that with Mark and Minerva. Or maybe it was there and I was just too young to realize.

I wonder if they struggled with their choices like I'm struggling with mine now. I wonder if they fought what they were and my confusion is just me subconsciously suppressing who I really am. But I like to think that I would know if I were Candor or Amity.

All due respect to Minerva and whatever, but I am not terribly fond of Candor. In some ways I can appreciate how straightforward they are, but most of the time I find them to be loud and obnoxious. It's always the Dauntless and the Candor that talk too much and cause too many distractions. I mean, Erudite also have a tendency to talk too much, that stereotype doesn't come from nowhere, but at least we know what we're talking about. Candor just tend to spew out whatever comes into their mind and Dauntless are just crass.

Don't get me wrong, I do love Minerva and I do admire her work in Candor and I admire what Candor does for this city. But every Candor teenager I have ever met has been nothing short of extremely irritating. At least I know of one good Dauntless my age.

I glance over to where the Dauntless sit and spot her playing cards with a group of three others. She brushes her brown and gold, nearly gravity-defying curls away from her face only for the section to fall right back over her left eye. She notices me out of the corner of her eye and waves; I wave back and the others notice too. A little grin crosses Eliza's face that she more than happily returns.

I met Kira Elysium when I was thirteen, which was when the others met her too. We were all just hanging around during the break in the park when Kira waltzed over to us and just sat down, jumping in on our conversation like we'd been friends for years. She's as bold as she is compassionate and fits in with our little group very, very well. Of course, she has friends of her own in Dauntless whose names escape me because I've only seen them once or twice. She says she likes to think of her friendship with us like an alter ego, no pressure to be daring and out there; she can be as bookish and nerdy as she likes without anyone giving her shit for it. She isn't terribly interested in Dauntless, but she seems endlessly enchanted and fascinated by Erudite. I think she knows what faction she'll be choosing tomorrow too.

I know that most Dauntless aren't Kira, that she's a rarity, that she's always been more Erudite than Dauntless and so I don't base any of my opinions of them off of her. If I did then I'd probably think much better of them. Kira likes her birth faction well enough. She's told us that she thinks it's a fine place to be, but she never says much of it past that. I think that she's is as scared of leaving as I am. Neither of us are like Casey; even though Kira seems to have fallen in love with Erudite she is still hesitant to make any commitments. Speaking of commitments, I know that she and Eliza have had a thing for each other for a while now. I know because they've both told me and both of them are aware that the other likes them back. But interfaction dating isn't allowed and even if it were Eliza could never date a Dauntless, and like I said Kira is still not totally ready to jump ship yet. Even so, I don't think that she'll be staying there. I think that, if I stay, we'll be seeing a lot of each other during initiation.

Her fascination with Erudite aside, Kira's really crazy smart. I know that I'm smart, and I know that Casey and Eliza are smart, and I'm sure there are smart Dauntless, but Kira is on another level. Kira really is Erudite smart and if she were Erudite I think she would be some of Eliza's greatest competition. She learns all that she does because she thinks it's fun, because she enjoys the hands on work that she can do as much as she enjoys reading about things in the abstract. I know that she enjoys mechanics, that she volunteers at a Dauntless repair shop in her free time that her uncle worked for a while back. She really loves it, but as she says, it's just a hobby; she doesn't think that it will be something permanent.

If I could invite Kira over to sit with us, I would. I love talking to her because on top of everything else, she's super witty too. Her quick humor and spur of the moment jokes are one of the many things that I love about her. But none of us are allowed to move from our tables and go interact with kids from other factions. For all that we're supposed to coexist happily and interact, there sure are a lot of limits on just how we can interact with each other. All that we can do is sit with our respective factions and just do what we're supposed to.

I look around at the other tables, first noticing the others that belong to my own faction. Everyone is either studying or talking. Some had enough foresight to bring a book that they actually want to read (i.e. literally anything besides the textbooks that we have. All of them are digital downloads with hard copies kept in class, but it's the only reading material we were provided if we forgot our own stuff). Others type on laptops or tablets. We're supposed to be studying, but I really doubt that it matters as long as you don't get caught. Most of us started out the waiting period buried in our books and tech, but as time wore on the quiet slowly began to break down and a lot of kids have abandoned their stuff for conversations with their friends.

To the left of the Erudite tables are the Dauntless tables. Looking past Kira and her friends playing cards, I see that other Dauntless are doing the same or talking much more loudly. Others brought other games to play to pass the time. That entire section of the cafeteria is just a lot of noise. The Dauntless are as beautiful as they are fascinating to me. My siblings and parents never hesitate to roll their eyes at the Dauntless look but I think it's great. They look comfortable (more comfortable than I have ever been in some of my dresses) while at the same time being stunning. Between their tattoos, piercings, dramatic makeup, and unnatural hair colors that take up their entire head paired with creative styles, their bodies are works of art in and of themselves. To me it is a very attractive, if slightly off putting, look; and I know for a fact that Eliza thinks so too. Erudite also has a lot of dramatic makeup, but Dauntless' is darker and heavier. They are less focused on making themselves look perfect and more on making themselves noticeable. I have seen people with eyeshadow and lipstick as bright and colorful as their hair in every color imaginable, always paired with very heavy eyeliner that draws attention to the eyes.

Candor to my right are no better in the noise department, I suppose. Their faction encourages talking openly at all times, so that is what they do. A few groups, from what I can overhear, are debating something that was in the news this morning, but most of the kids are just chatting about nothing. Some of them look exceptionally bored, like they would rather be doing anything than talking to whoever they're talking to. I am very familiar with that feeling. Aside from Minerva, I have never been very fond of the Candor, but I can at least appreciate the aesthetic that they have going. Their black and white clothing looks neat and put together just like the clothes in Erudite do. They don't have as much variety in color, but they make up for it in style. Many of them have a natural beauty about them honed from years of learning how to be stunning without makeup because their faction doesn't allow it.

Some of the Amity have abandoned their tables to sit on the floor in circles and play games that cause them to erupt into a fit of giggles every five or so minutes. Others remain in their seats and talk excitedly with bright smiles and lots of hand gestures. I can easily see why my brother would have been drawn to Amity; I am a little drawn to Amity. It's hard not to be when they all just look so happy. Maybe it is not the wisest life to lead; perhaps it won't lead to great success and prominence, but no one can deny Amity's importance to our city. And maybe prominence isn't everything. I mean, Mark obviously didn't think so. I can see both the physical and metaphorical beauty in Amity. Their lives just seem so carefree, so easy. They never have to stress about anything and everything is always very pleasant. It would be so nice to be that way, to live without a care in the world. There is beauty in their kindness too; their bright smiles and how they always know just what to say. They always seem very in tune with others emotions and are ready to offer comfort even to those outside of their faction. Every Amity just seems to really enjoy being alive and I'll bet that makes it a little easier to always be nice to people. Amity are pretty physically too. Every faction has sort of a look going for them beyond just colors and Amity's is very light and soft, like they are. When they're not working, most of them wear their hair long, loose, and natural. Their skin is perpetually sunkissed from working in the fields and many of them have freckles from the same thing. I look at Casey and I wonder how long it will take her to develop freckles that weren't there before and a tan. Mark is noticeably slightly darker than the rest of my family and he has a little splash of freckles across his nose that I don't remember being there when we were children.

The Abnegation sit on the far side of the cafeteria, all of them staring blankly into space with their hands folded. Their faction rules dictate that they're always supposed to be quiet, still, and unnoticeable until someone can make use of them. There's not a lot to look at with them; they don't do anything, they don't act like anything, the only time they ever say anything is when it's their leaders. In a way I find it odd how they can always be so quiet, but in a way I do admire them. They always seem to be totally at peace, totally comfortable with fading into the background. I guess that if you never think about yourself then there's nothing to be uncomfortable with. I kind of respect and envy that.

Eliza is called with the next group and as she stands neither Casey nor I wish her luck or reassure her, she doesn't need it. Eliza knows who she is and where she belongs; she always has. She's going to be an amazing Erudite who will do incredible things just like her parents, like my family, like the department heads. I think that Eliza will be one of them some day; maybe she'll even be faction leader.

"I'm kind of nervous," Casey says quietly, twisting her fingers together.

I nod, "Me too. But it'll be fine; we - we already know where we belong." The words feel wrong in my mouth, like the kind of lie that makes your skin crawl and you feel uncomfortable for ever saying it.

She nods with a strange look on her face. "Right."

We fall into silence and she goes back to her book so I glance down at my phone, trying to pass the time by scrolling through my pictures. I'm not exactly one of those people who takes pictures of everything, but I do have some good ones. Most of them feature my friends, laughing and smiling. But flipping through them only makes the fear in my chest stronger. I don't want to have to leave; I don't want to lose them, I don't want to be separated. But whether I leave or not things are about to change and they'll never go back to the way that they used to be. Casey is going to leave. I keep saying that I'm okay with it and that it's not a big deal because I've always known, but I'm going to miss her. I want her to be happy, but I also don't want to lose my best friend. Following her wherever she goes isn't really an option either; I could never be Amity, and I can't just abandon Eliza and my family, right?

But I know that they'd all be fine without me if I did leave. Eliza is perfectly self-sufficient and she's got Kira. My parents have watched two of their children leave already, they might not approve but I would never have to know. If I can't do anything for myself then I at least want to make everyone else happy, but I can't because everyone's going in different directions. I don't want to be alone and I don't want to be smothered. I'm so afraid that I won't survive if I stay in Erudite, or I'll let everyone down. My family expects so much from me and I don't want to disappoint them. I'm not Michael or Melanie; I don't belong like they do, I can never pretend that Erudite is all that I've ever wanted and that I've always been sure.

When people look at me they always see something that I'm not. It feels like everybody thinks that I'm super smart and really impressive like all of my siblings are, but I'm not. I'll never be as good as my siblings no matter how much I want to be. That's always been my friends, they're more adept than I am at pretty much everything. I mean, I have hobbies and even things that I'm good at. I get good grades and I'm good at talking to people, but I'm nothing outstanding. The only thing that makes me special is who I'm related to and that's practically nothing if I can't live up to my family's legacy. Everyone I'm related to is special; everyone I'm related to is talented, and smart, and outstanding. Their greatness is natural and effortless; it's something that they've always known and something that they just _are _. I work really hard at everything I do and I'm still nowhere as good at anything as anyone I know. I'm not oblivious; I know that I'm not the best fighter, or the best cellist, or student. I'll never be as smart as Kira and Eliza, I'll never be elegant and perfect like my mother, or strong like Minerva, or effortlessly kind like Mark and Casey. I'm nice, but I can't draw people to me; and I'm not clumsy, but I am hardly perfect.

Erudite places a lot of importance on knowing what your good at; we call it finding your niche. The idea is that you find what you're really, really good at and you stick to it. Supposedly everyone has one and that's what you're meant to do and be. If I have one, then I haven't found it yet. Maybe if I could, then it would be easier to figure out what I want to do.

Because that's what this all circles back to; I don't know what to do. I feel lost and I'm terrified that nothing I'll ever do will be what I'm supposed to be doing. I'm really afraid that I'm going to make a mistake, make the wrong choice, and spend the rest of my life miserable. I only get one chance to make my life the best life I can live.

Eliza comes back ten minutes or so later as calm and confident as she was when she left.

"How did it go?" Casey asks.

"Just fine," she says with a smirk. Neither of us have to ask what she got, we're not supposed to but that doesn't exactly stop people, we both already know she got Erudite.

She'll be really happy here, she'll do great. I wonder if I'll get to see it, I really don't know. I think it'd be cool for her, Kira, and I to rise through the ranks together and for Eliza and I to be the people everyone wants us to be together, and for Kira to be a Dauntless that my parents don't hate. I think it would be wonderful five years from now to be Melanie and Michael's age and feel totally at home in tones of blue, surrounded by glass and steel, looking back on today and wonder why I ever worried. To be right there when Eliza claims all of the success that she's always deserved, to be at her side the whole time; and Kira along with us, shocking everyone time and time again.

But even as I think this I still can't help but think that this only sounds amazing in theory. In reality I know that it would be hard for all of us, that we'd struggle. Erudite weeds out the weak with brutal efficiency through vicious competition and I don't worry about Eliza, but Kira and I could get cut down not because we're not smart enough, but because we're not as cutthroat as others. As much as I hate her, Dahlia could probably best me easily because she's as devoted to competing as Eliza is. I might fail.

I do not want to fail.

My thoughts are interrupted as an Abnegation volunteer calls the next group for testing; two from Amity, two from Candor, two from Dauntless (Kira is one of them), two from Abnegation, and then, "From Erudite, Cassandra Diarmond and Mimette Malachite-Captor."

I stand on trembling legs, smoothing my skirt and leave my journal behind with Eliza. Casey and I walk closely to each other and I want to take her hand to calm my nerves, but I don't want to appear vulnerable. I am aware that I'm noticeable, I know that people see me and as the daughter of Erudite's representative I know that there's always a bit of a spotlight on me. I learned very young that I had to always be conscious of how I look, that I had to project confidence and grace all the time and uphold the core ideals of my faction. I have to be the perfect daughter, especially now that I'm the only one left under my parents' care. I'm not perfect, but I can never let everyone else know that.

I nearly bump into an Abnegation girl as I go through the door, both of us stepping back quickly. After a moment I realize that it's the same one that I smacked into in the hallway this morning. She gestures for me to go first and I do, muttering an apology.

Through the door is a hallway with ten frosted glass doors. Each of us goes through one, I glance at Casey one more time before we're separated.

Inside the room is a chair and a computer terminal with an Abnegation woman sitting at it. We aren't allowed to be tested by members of our own faction, so most of the volunteers are Abnegation with the exception of a few. The woman's back is to me as she finishes something; her dark brown hair tied into the same bun that every Abnegation woman wears but hers has a few sections of hair that have fallen loose from it. I close the door behind me with a click and she turns at the sound.

She smiles gently, "My name is Maria. Have a seat please."

The chair's back is reclined and so when I lean back I am staring straight up at the ceiling.

"It doesn't hurt," Maria says. "It's actually rather easy."

"What happens?" I ask.

"I can't say. Don't worry about it, just do what feels natural."

"What does that mean?" Like everyone in my faction, I ask a lot of questions. But I'm sure she's been getting this all afternoon.

"Don't worry about it." She moves some of the loose curls behind her ear. Her eyes are dark and look as warm as her smile.

She hands me a vial of blue tinged liquid. "Drink this."

"What does it do?"

"I can't say, you'll just have to trust me. The test will begin immediately afterward."

I drink it all in one gulp and lean back again. I feel tired and heavy almost immediately. All I can do is close my eyes as my awareness of everything around me fades away.

When I open my eyes, I am in the cafeteria again. In front of me are two pedestals, each one holding a basket. In one basket is a knife as long as my forearm, gleaming silver in the bright light, and in the other is a slab of raw meet.

"Choose," a voice says.

"Why?" I look around for the source of the voice and find nothing.

"Choose," the voice repeats.

I look between the baskets, trying to decide. I reach out and hover over the meat for a minute before going to the knife and then back and then back again. Finally, I pick up the knife. This isn't the first time I've held a knife, Melanie throws knives as a hobby and collects the pretty ones. Hers are far more elegant than the simple black and silver one I hold now.

I hear a noise behind me and turn to see a large black and brown dog growling. I can see its massive sharp teeth from here and I look down at the knife in my hand, knowing what I'm meant to do with it. But I can't. I can't kill this dog, I can't and I won't.

I throw the knife off to the side and hear it clatter to the floor somewhere. I step back slowly. There's no way that I'll be fast enough to make it all the way to the door, I wish that I'd grabbed the meat.

The dog snarls and runs at me. I don't have a lot of experience with animals, Erudite doesn't allow pets, but I know that usually they are more afraid of you than you are of them. Going down to their level and allowing them to approach you on their own terms works well, to be as gentle and nonthreatening as possible.

I, very slowly, kneel down to its height as it continues to run at me. I expect it to pounce on me and I brace for the impact but instead it skids to a stop in front of me. Very slowly, I lift my hand and hold it out in front of me for the dog to sniff. The dog snarls at me and sniffs at my hand. I keep my eyes on the tile and the dog's feet, keeping my breathing as even as possible. I feel something cold and wet press into my palm and I lift my head slowly. The dog's snout is pressed into my hand and it looks at me expectantly, its vicious expression gone. I smile slightly and move my hand behind its ears, still slowly so as not to upset it. I scratch behind its ears and it wags its tail, sitting down.

I smile at it. "You're not so vicious, are you?"

It licks my face and I laugh, wiping the drool away with the back of my hand.

"Puppy!" A child in a white dress exclaims, giggling. "C'mere."

The dog snarls at the little girl, once again becoming vicious. The child shrieks and flinches, before the dog can run at her I wrap my arms around its neck, keeping it from charging with only my body weight.

I expect to feel sharp teeth sink into me as it thrashes in my arms, but after a moment it stops.

I open my screwed shut eyes and I am no longer in the cafeteria, I am sitting on the city bus among dozens of others.

Across the aisle stands a Candor man reading a newspaper. I can't see his face over the newspaper, but his hands are scarred like he's been burned as far up as I can see before they disappear into the white sleeves of his jacket. I fold my hands in front of me and stare ahead, reading the front page of his paper. The headline reads, 'Brutal Murderer Finally Apprehended' in thick black font. Below the headline is a grainy black and white mugshot of a plain looking man with dark hair and empty eyes. I can't make out any of the text surrounding the photo thought. Suddenly, the man folds the newspaper so that only the front page shows, his face twisted into a scowl. His face is in the same state as his hands and he wears dark sunglasses, but I can fill in the blanks on what his eyes must look like.

"Do you know this guy?!" he demands, jabbing the mugshot.

I jump slightly looking at the people next to me, and there are people next to me but I can't quite to focus on their features.

"I'm talking to you, girlie," he says.

I point to myself, looking around at the other passengers, waiting for them to notice but no one does.

"Yes, you." I cannot see his eyes, but I do not have to to know that he rolled them. "Well, do you know him?"

I stare intently at the photo, I feel like I might know the man, but the feeling is faint and the photo quality is poor. I glance down to see if there's a name, but I can't quite make out any words besides the headline.

"I don't believe so," I say. It's not quite a lie, but it isn't really the truth either. Regardless, he says, "I don't believe you." He crumples the newspaper.

"You must be mistaking me for someone else."

"You must be lying to me." He steps closer and looms over me in my seat.

I summon all my courage to rise slowly from my seat, forcing him to take a step back. "I'm not lying."

"I can see it in your eyes." I can smell cigarettes on his breath and have to push down the urge to cough.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I try to keep my tone light and pleasant, like dealing with a particularly unpleasant classmate in the presence of a teacher. No one has to know how mean I can be, all I have to do is smile and be polite.

He tilts his sunglasses down and I can see that his eyes are pale green and bloodshot with dark rings under them. "If you knew him, you could save me. You could save me!"

I clench my hands together and look away, anywhere but his eyes. "Well, I'm sorry. I don't." Like the ground knows what I hide, it opens up and swallows me whole, pulling me into darkness.

I open my eyes and I am standing in the middle of a crowded room. People in white - just white - are swirling around me. They flow around one another, none seeming to take notice of any other. I too stand in a white robe, unseen, lost in this sea of people who all blend together. I can't remember where I am, why I got here and how. I start to reach out to ask someone but each person is gone too quickly with the current to stop them long enough to talk to me.

Then suddenly someone breaks that rhythm, a step out of time and a little bit to the left sending them careening into me and potent red splashes across my own white ensemble. Everyone stops, seemingly gasping in unison. I have caught the person as they stumbled toward the ground out of reflex and right them on their feet. They babble apologetically at me as everyone stares and whispers, eyes fixed on the stain that marrs my outfit.

My cheeks burn at the attention, my mind thinking that it's too much and I want to fall into the floor once again. There's no way for me to hide it, to delicately fold my arms over my front and make my way to the edge of the room. Everyone has already seen, everyone already knows. So I let my arms fall back to my sides and tilt my chin up.

I start to stride through the crowd, giving no regard to flow letting people move for me or risk colliding with my shoulder until I am parting the crowd like the sea in that one myth. I am striding, not running to hide or bowing my head in shame but walking like royalty as the red runs down my dress.

I am standing under a harsh spotlight in front of what I know is a crowd of hundreds, thousands even. I can hear their breaths quiet but present. In front of me are two faceless women; one in a suit standing in front of me and another clad in a plain white robe sitting in a chair.

I have just been posed a question. I do not know the answer. Not only that, I barely understand the question and I know, I just _know _that something awful will happen to either me or the woman depending on my answer. Panic fills me, I look from the featureless host, to the endless crowd, to the woman in the chair looking to me with pleading eyes.

"Do you have the answer?" asks the woman.

"I - I have a question," I say, fidgeting.

"Do you have the _answer _," she says more firmly.

I wrack my brain, trying to untangle what was asked of me but the harder I think the more confused I become until it's hard to even remember the exact phrasing of the question.

"Answer. Now."

My cheeks burn hot with shame. I don't know, and I'm going to pay for it. The woman will walk away, but I will not. I could always lie, make something up, but I don't even know what the consequences will be if I am wrong. Maybe both of us will be killed.

I meet the eyes of this host and wonder why she's doing this to me, what I've done to deserve having this ethical and intellectual dilemma thrown in my face with someone else's life at stake. Briefly, I look to the other woman before my eyes move back to the host.

"I don't know."

She frowns. "You...don't know?"

"Well, I do have some questions and then I can give you-" Once again I am plunged into darkness as all the lights shut off and I am falling.


	3. Chapter 3: Everything Changes

When I open my eyes, my head hurts and I feel dizzy. The lights are brighter than I remember and I have to squint to see anything. When I turn my head I see Maria staring at the computer with a slight frown. She removes the electrodes from my head and hers and I wait for her to say something. To tell me what faction I would be in, to tell me who I would become. I can't fail a test I'm not allowed to prepare for, right?

She drums her fingernails against the terminal, humming under her breath. As the moments pass, her frown deepens.

"Did I do badly?" I ask.

She huffs and stops tapping her nails, "No… um, I'm just… um... that was… weird. Stay here for a moment please." She gets up and leaves the room.

I close my eyes again and the headache begins to subside. I sit up straight in the chair and open my eyes, letting them adjust to the bright light.

I don't fail tests and one certainly cannot fail this one. No one ever _fails _the Aptitude Test, everyone has a place that they belong. Or maybe that's how people end up factionless, maybe some people can't belong to society. But that's not me, not with my family, not with the legacy that I come from, the legacy that I have to uphold. I was born to succeed, I was born to do great things because I'm just like my family, sort of. I mean, I'm supposed to measure up, right? I'm supposed to _fit _because that's what they all did, that's what everyone did. I can't just be destined for factionlessness; I can't just disappoint everyone like that. Without the test how and I supposed to know what to choose? I'm supposed to have my whole life ahead of me somewhere and all this test is supposed to do is tell me where that is. I mean I've always been a little different but everyone is and maybe that's because I just don't fit in Erudite but I don't see why that would be cause for her to just leave like that. Shouldn't it just be that she tells me where I'm supposed to be and that's the end of that, right? Because we all belong somewhere, right?

Maria comes back and I want to ask a million questions at once, but I let her speak first.

"Sorry for keeping you waiting," she says. "I'm sure you're very anxious to hear your results."

"Something like that," I laugh nervously.

Maria presses her lips together, avoiding my eyes. "There's something that I have to tell you, um ah, a-about your test."

"Yes?" I lean forward slightly.

"Mimette, your results were…inconclusive." She looks back at the door quickly as though she expects someone to walk in.

I cock my head to the side, "I'm sorry, what?"

"It didn't...well...things didn't go like they're supposed to."

"What does that mean?" Panic begins to bloom within my chest. "What do you mean they didn't go like they're supposed to?"

Maria pinches her lips together. "You didn't, um, react in any ways that the test can interpret as one definative answer. Had you shown an automatic preference for the knife that would have been evidence in Dauntless' favor but you hesitated, long enough to throw the system. I don't even know what to make of you throwing away the knife. Factoring in your responses to the dog, and the man, the stain, and the question it all blurs together. One faction into another, when there are supposed to be only so many answers to each question, you've pulled ones out of thin air."

"I don't understand."

"Mimette, I'm afraid that no one really does. In - in rare cases there have been tests that malfunctioned and the student would have to take it again, but that was supposed to be solved with the advent of the serum test. It is...precise, the numbers are hard and static. Mimette, you were all over the place in that simulation."

"Oh my god." I sit back in my chair muttering to myself, "I've failed the aptitude test."

"No, you haven't." There's a hard look in Maria's eyes. "You haven't failed yet. You're just...different. Very different."

I frown, not liking the way that she said that.

"Think of it like this. You're trying to find your way out of a maze: an Amity asks for help, an Erudite makes a map, a Candor uses clues to find the exit, an Abnegation wanders until they make it thought without having to bother anyone, and a Dauntless runs headlong and keeps running until eventually they find their way out. You, Mimette, you just jumped the wall. That's not a conventional solution that's, well, that's what they call a Divergent solution."

"What? Who is 'they'? What does Divergent mean? To take your metaphor, if the maze is so easy that I can climb over then why doesn't everyone else?"

"Because no one thinks to do it. And 'they' are a small group of people academic and...distinctly less academic who believe that the faction system has missed something; that there's someone we didn't account for. Divergent means that you are more than one, or maybe something entirely new. Usually the test can manage to rule out at least a few possibilities but, in your case, it's all over the map. Dauntless, Erudite, and Amity - those are the strongest contenders but not by much. All of the factions are there in some sense or another. They are all simultaneously possible and impossible."

"But-"

She holds up a finger to my lips to stop me. "Don't ask me what that means again. Questions are only going to get you in more trouble. It would be in your best interest to go home and forget this ever happened, have dinner with your parents, try to live a normal life."  
"But how do I choose?" I protest. "The test was supposed to tell me what to choose."

"It can't. No one can. You'll just have to choose for yourself." She puts her hands on my shoulders. "You've got to listen to me.. Forget this day, forget your results. Go out there and do what you set out to do when you left your house this morning. Choose the thing you've always wanted, choose beyond your wildest imagination. But choose carefully, you only get to do it once."

I have a thousand more questions queued up in my head about who she is, and why she - an Abnegation woman - knows this, and who else knows, and how do more people _not _know, and why is this so dangerous. But then she is ushering me out the door, and then she is closing the door, and then she is gone.

Back in the cafeteria I sit next to Eliza, she smiles at me and I smile back. Casey joins us only moments later with a smile, I don't even have to ask to know that she got what she always wanted. I somehow managed to get the opposite. All I wanted was to know where I belonged, all I wanted as to know what I was supposed to choose. No, I'm even more confused than I was before I sat down in the testing room. I open my notebook and stare at the blank pages, tapping my pen against the paper. I don't dare write any of what just happened down, not with so many people around and not when it could be read. This is something that I must keep to myself forever. I glance down at my phone and check the time, it hasn't even been half an hour since I stood up from this chair and yet somehow that is all it took to turn my entire life upside down.

The logical thing to do is to choose Erudite, it's what I've always known. I could fit in best here because I already know what to do and how to act. I am perfectly smart enough to thrive here and I already have good connections. No one would ever suspect that there was something odd about me.

But I can't help but think of the possibility of elsewhere, of the other places I could go. Amity, happy and bright and endlessly surrounded by nature and laughter. A place where I could live my life in peace and happiness with my brother and my oldest friend. Or Dauntless; brave, mysterious, and awesome. Always chasing thrills, loud and laughing. In Dauntless I could forge my own path, it would be something entirely new to me and there is something enticing about that. I could do anything, I could be anyone. If I join the Dauntless I will never be at Kira's side, she is leaving and that I know. But it's not about Kira, it's about becoming everything that I've never known. Or being among the happiest people in the city, the Amity. Or finding truth and justice, learning to love the brash nature of the Candor. Or maybe there is something to a plain life, a quiet one where no one has to struggle. Or living my life in the little world that I was born into, in the place where was have been set up to thrive.

Of course, there is no guarantee that I would ever make it through the initiation of wherever I choose. There is always the opportunity to fail. I don't like to think of myself as someone who fails, but people wash out of pretty much every faction every year. Erudite has something like a twenty-five percent chance of failure and that's being optimistic. I am not Eliza, and I'm not my parents, or Jeanine, or the twins. I'm not like them because I don't _belong _like they do, Erudite is not where I was born for like they were.

"So that's it," Eliza says with a smirk. "It's over."

I nod.

"Now comes the hard part," Casey says, still grinning.

"Sure," Eliza says, "but now we've got out whole lives ahead of us _and _we know what we're supposed to do."

"Certainly takes some of the pressure off," Casey agrees.

Part of me wants to scream and I wish that I could tell them how wrong they are. Casey is Amity bound and Eliza is going to remain, I could go either way or somewhere else entirely. I could become whoever I want and that should make me happy, it should fill me with excitement for the future when I get to see what I'm going to become. But really I just want to know how I'm supposed to act, it's what I've done all my life. I've just done exactly as I'm told and become what I should be, now I have the opportunity to change that like I never have. Casey has the strength to do it, do I? Not really. Maybe I should just choose Erudite and be done with it, maybe I should just be the person that everyone wants and expects me to be. But I can't say for sure if that would make me happy. I just want to be happy. Maybe that means that I'm cut out for Amity really, the happiest of the five factions.

Maybe I'm not cut out for anywhere at all.

At the end of the school day everyone who can leave does and the ones with friends stuck behind shoot apologetic glances at them. Casey, Kira, Eliza, and I walk out the front doors together and they break off left toward The Commons, where all the students hang out but I tell them that I already committed to having lunch with Melanie and I'll catch up with them later. They wave goodbye to me and then dive into their own conversation. It's all so easy for them, everything they do seems so effortless. The incredible way that they are comes so easily to them in a way that it never has for me. I have spent my entire life in everyone's shadow and my friends are no exception; each of them is the sun in their own right; bright, and brilliant, and beautiful, and I just do what I can. I would be completely unremarkable without my connections; people tell me otherwise, Eliza always says that she likes me for a reason, but I can't help but wonder what that reason is. Whatever it is, I don't see it.

I let Melanie pick the restaurant and she is waiting for me when I arrive. I smile as soon as I catch sight of her, some of my worries rolling off my shoulders. We always try to make time for each other, but sometimes it feels like I haven't seen her in forever and Michael is exactly the same way. But that's okay; my sister loves me, and nothing's ever going to change that. Even if I choose to leave, '_ faction before blood _' be damned, my family will always love me. Mark and Minerva are still very much part of the family and they always will be.

"Hey, Mim," Melanie says with a smile when I sit down.

I pick up the menu. "Hi, Mel, how are things?"

"Busy as ever. Victoria said to tell you hello. She wishes she could be in upper levels with you."

"Yeah, I'm sure she does." Victoria is a child prodigy and she can do college level work but she isn't allowed to advance because everything before upper levels is planned around the Choosing Ceremony. It's a constant battle to keep her stimulated during school and most of her teachers are at the end of their rope, but so is Victoria because she's bored to tears and incredibly aware of how much smarter than everyone she is. "How's Gwendolyn?"

That's the name of Victoria's older sister, Melanie's fiancée.

"Lovely." She pauses. "Busy, but lovely still."

"How's wedding planning going?"

She groans. "If I have to look at one more floral arrangement, I'm going to puke." She chuckles. "Remind me to ask Mom and Dad if they have the number for Damascus' floristry place."

I raise my eyebrows "Damascus? _Really _?"

Damascus Steele was once a family friend, he was close to our parents and his daughter, Pandora, was close to Mark and all of us really but especially Mark. We were practically family until I was about five and then he stopped talking to us. Pandora came around all the time still and sometimes we would see him in passing, but every moment was undercut with a tension I didn't understand and my parents just refuse to acknowledge that he ever existed in the first place. I hardly knew him so it's easy for me, but not so much for my siblings.

She shrugs. "He has a gift. I see no reason not to."

"How about because Mom and Dad hate him or something?"

She scoffs. "They do not _hate _him." Her eyes flicker away for a second as she pauses. "I think…"

Apparently they never really bothered to explain anything about what happened to any of my siblings either.

"How's work?" I change the subject.

"Work's busy, like always. You know?"

I nod. "I do."

"You excited to start working next year?"

I shrug. "Sure."

"Guess it depends on where you choose," she chuckles. "How did your test go anyways?"

"My test was fine." I know that she's not just remembering, she's probably been wanting to talk to me about this all day.

"What was your result?"

"I'm not supposed to tell you, and you're not supposed to ask."

"Oh come on, don't be so uptight. I'm going to see your results anyways; I help run those tests."

I almost spit out the water I was drinking. "Y-you do?"

"As head of the psychology department it's part of my job to gather the aptitude test data and analyze it for the council. I can go through everyone's individually if I wanted to." And I don't doubt that she'll see that my result had to be entered manually. She'll figure out that something's up.

"W-what do you do with the data?" I ask.

"Nice subject change." She rolls her eyes. "Everyone's just always curious what sort of percentage of the population is receiving what results; it's not the same every year, you know. It's also how they make preparations for how to deal with next year's initiates."

"Not this year's?"

"All of those preparations have already been made and set in stone, or at least they should have been. We're always a year behind, but results don't tend to vary too dramatically."

I nod, genuinely interested. The Aptitude Test and Choosing Ceremony are extremely fundamental parts of our society that affect more people's lives than just the initiates and those that train them. Erudite gets hundreds of initiates each year as do Candor and Amity and so new living spaces are always having to be built. There was a time when Dauntless and Abnegation were quite large too, but numbers have really dropped in the recent years, mostly because no one likes them. Candor and Amity are easy factions to get into and provide relatively easy lives to lead. No one can say that the jobs aren't demanding both physically and mentally, but they don't demand your full and undivided attention like lots of Erudite jobs do and the life there is easy and luxurious compared to life in Dauntless and Abnegation. But still, lots of people come to Erudite chasing the luxury and beauty that we have and that's why so many people fail, because they don't belong. I am so afraid of being one of those people.

"Michael and I are going to swing by together with everyone else, you know, to have one last dinner together," she says and I grimace at the second part of her sentence. I don't want tonight to be the last night I ever spend in my home. I don't want tonight to be the last dinner that I ever have with my family. I am so, so scared of how much everything is going to change. I've known this was coming, that tomorrow I become an adult and the rest of my life kicks off from there, but I don't know how I'm supposed to do it right. I can't fail; I just want to make my family proud.

Before I can even begin to tell Melanie any of this her phone rings. She frowns and answers, mouthing 'sorry' as she steps away from the table.

I can still hear her over by the wall and listen in, already knowing what's coming.

"Can't this wait? I'm a little busy right – No…No, yes of course I understand…Yes…Yes, I'll be there right away." She sighs as she hangs up, already looking apologetic as she approaches the table.

"Let me guess," I say, "a work thing."

"Always," she sighs. "I'm really sorry, Mim. I promise I'll try to make it by tonight."

"Don't sweat it if you can't, it's not a big deal," I say even though it sort of is. But I've been getting this all my life; I've perfected the art of being graceful about everyone always having to step out early, and not being able to make it to things that matter to me. I've perfected the art of hiding my disappointment and annoyance because I know that it's necessary. I even manage to fool myself from time to time, pretend that I'm so used to it that it no longer matters to me. But of course it matters, because it seems like my time with my family is always limited by one work thing or another; trying to get us all together is like herding cats, because even when everyone can manage to find an opening in their schedule it seems like every time at least one person is whisked away by an emergency.

"I wouldn't go if it wasn't an emergency," she says as she shrugs on her long navy jacket.

"I know. Can I ask what it is this time?" I tack on the last two words without meaning to, bitterness creeping into my voice.

"There was…some sort of problem with the testing. A system failure in a few of the tests concentrated in one of the groups of ten. I swear, this happens every year. But it's never been so concentrated and so protocol dictates…Whatever, I'm already late." She presses a quick kiss to my cheek. "I'll make it up to you, Mim. I love you."

"I love you too," I call after her. I don't know when she'll get the chance to 'make it up to me', I might not see her again for a long time after tomorrow. Maybe she'll make it to dinner.

She probably won't.

The Commons is a massive park a block and a half south of the upper levels campus surrounded by the hustle and bustle of life in City Center. Sometimes it feels like its own miniature version of the city; students from every faction gather there to hang around after classes. I met Kira here when we were thirteen, she just sort of dropped down at the table Casey, Eliza, and I were at and started talking. She needed help with whatever homework we were working on and then she just never left.

The Commons is a far more peaceful coexistence than school, it's the same students but everyone just seems more tolerable in a wide open space that everyone chooses to inhabit. Kids who never interact during the school day will sit together in the Commons and laugh and talk like they're old friends.

It's a nice little spot too; right across from three restaurants and a coffee shop with the citywide library only just down the street. The park itself is full of trees that look like fire with the September temperatures and abstract sculptures that that the Dauntless kids like the climb on. The entire space is also dotted with tables and benches for groups to sit and work or talk, but mostly talk.

I walk through the park and admire the leaves, shivering slightly as a cold breeze blows through.

My three friends are sitting around a table chatting like they always do. For a second I see Casey in Amity red and yellow, the same colors as some of the leaves, and Kira in deep blues that make her skin look even darker. Then I blink and they're the same as they always have been. Kira brushes a stray curl back as Casey and Eliza laugh at something she said. I join them at the table, sliding in next to Casey.

"Hey, Mimette," Kira says. "How was your sister?"

I shrug, "Same as always, you know?"

All three of them nod, understanding my meaning; Casey and Eliza having been in the same situation with their own families and Kira knows enough of how my 'quality time' with my family tends to go to understand. It's just something that everyone's sort of used to; something that she will have to get used to too when she lives in Erudite. A lot of the time the people you love just don't have any time for you and it sucks but that's just how things are. It's part of the reason that I feel like I might as well be living alone in my house, why my friends can come and go unnoticed and often unannounced. My parents aren't around to care and when they do come home, usually my friends are already there and they're quite hospitable.

After about fifteen minutes of talking casually, Casey stands up.

"I should get going," she says. "I want to make it home before my father does."

"I should probably go too," Eliza says. "Lord knows my parents will find _something _for me to do – or more accurately, yell at me for not doing – at home if I don't get there before them."

"I'll see you guys tomorrow," I say with a wave. I probably won't wind up seeing them tomorrow. The Choosing Ceremony tends to be pretty nuts and there's people everywhere. I get up and wrap Casey in a tight hug. "Hey, I'm really happy that we got to be friends and, uh, that I just got to be a part of your life."

"I love you, Mimette." She squeezes me back. "You've been good to me."

"I love you too."

We separate and Kira says her goodbyes to Casey while I move on to Eliza.

"Hey, I'll see you tomorrow, right?" she says, her eyes wide and hopeful. She doesn't want to lose me too, Eliza and I have always been close and without Kira and Casey I'm all she has.

But I don't know if I can just promise her my future like that. "Yeah, of course."

I do anyways.

She smiles. "Alright, see you then." She hugs me.

Casey waits to leave until Eliza and Kira have finished talking, their hands clasped and staring into each other's eyes. Casey wraps her arm around Eliza's shoulders and they walk away chatting.

Kira sits down next to me again, resting her head on her hand. She smiles at me. "So I guess tomorrow's the day."

I nod. "You know what you're going to do?"

She is silent for some time before she drags her hand through her hair, mussing up her curls further. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess I do."

"Good luck, Kira."

"Thanks, I'm gonna need it." She chuckles without humor. "Think we all will. Same to you, Mimette. Do you think you know?"

I stare into Kira's bright brown eyes, almost amber in the late afternoon light. Part of me wants to tell her the whole truth, to let it all come rushing out at once and hope to god that I can trust her. But I swallow that urge down and shrug. "Think so. Hope so, anyways."

"I think you'll figure it out," she says. "Everyone always does."

_I think I might be the exception to that statement, Kira _, I respond in my head.

If I stay, then we'll always be together. It will be the three of us; Kira, Eliza, and I forever. But, and they'd both laugh at me for thinking this, I don't want to be the third wheel forever. I love Kira and Eliza, but they're going to be together and then I'll just be there. Not to mention that I will never fit in like they do. Even Kira, as a Dauntless transfer, is more purely Erudite than I will ever be. Whether I stay or go I am always going to be out of place.

As my mother likes to say, that is how it is always going to be.


	4. Chapter 4: No Place Like Home

I push the front door open and listen to the electronic lock reengage, it's the only noise in the house besides my own breathing. I live in a really nice part of the city. It's near the center and relatively big because my mother is our faction head's right hand. There's no one home to greet me, there never is. I like it, or at the very least, I'm used to it.

"Home sweet home," I say to nothing. I look around and try not to think about how this is the last afternoon I will ever come back to this house after school.

I walk up to my room and drop my schoolbag next to my desk. Then I walk out and down the hall stopping at the first door to the right of mine.

We have guests often enough to warrant a guest bedroom, which is what Melanie's old room has been converted into. Mostly it's just Jeanine, working too late into the night to bother with driving home, but my cousins come to stay from time to time as well. Two years ago, Victoria lived with us for several months and this is where she stayed. It's not really something that I like to remember, probably one of the most miserable events I've ever experienced second-hand. Her parents died horribly and she was living in a strange faction with her sister who'd transferred years ago and was woefully unprepared to raise a child. That was before Gwendolyn and Melanie were living together, when Gwendolyn was still looking for a house because her apartment was little more than a hole in the wall that she barely even lived in. All she'd ever needed it for before was to have a bed to collapse into after working all day and through most of the night. I went there a few times; there were six pieces of furniture at the very most and she'd never really bothered with decorating. My family did everything that we could for the two of them, but it wasn't easy then and I would argue that it still isn't easy. Victoria fits well in Erudite; she's studious, and quiet, and well behaved. But she's closed in on herself in a way that even concerns Gwen, who has very few friends to speak of on account of the fact that she cares about Vic, Melanie, her work, and basically nothing else.

I flop down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. I remember very well what this room looked like before Melanie was gone; the clothes everywhere, the messy desk, the bookshelf packed beyond what it was really meant to hold, a corkboard where she kept pictures and other keepsakes from events. It was a lively kind of chaos that's not like how Melanie is now. She grew up; she's poised, and perfect, and elegant just like our mom. I sometimes wonder to myself if I'll grow into that too and I've just yet to figure it out. Unfortunately, I don't really have the time to see if that's what happen; if I really can just grow into everything I'm supposed to be. Melanie's been perfect to some degree or another for basically as long as I can remember. Even before she was the way she is today she was always good at everything she tried and always tried at everything she did. I've looked up to and envied her since I was a child in the way that most younger siblings do.

I wonder if she feels the same way about Minerva. Probably not; Minerva's amazing but she's different, she fundamentally grates against the values that were instilled in us since we were children with basically everything she does. She doesn't believe in tradition or convention and she's never tried to hide that. But Melanie – and Michael too actually – for as much as the love her, don't really seem to agree. Michael, I know, thinks that everything has limits and there's only so far that you can push.

It's not as small minded as it sounds, I promise. Erudite is a lot of things but small minded isn't one of them.

I pick at the plain bedspread, fighting the urge to fall asleep here. I wonder what my parents will do with my bedroom after I'm gone; what project they'll take up. Maybe a private library like the one Jeanine has, like the one they've wanted for years but never truly got around to. Instead, our books are scattered on high shelves about the house, packed tight with my parents' impressive collection of material.

It used to feel like my siblings lingered in their old rooms, the twins in particular. Parts of Melanie and Michael stuck around long after they left in a way that they didn't with Mark and Minerva. I was young when they left; not too young to feel it but too young to be close to them like I was close to the twins. Michael used to tell me stories, read to me, explain the latest thing he was learning about to put me to sleep when I was young; Melanie taught me everything she learned to entertain me. They were born to be Erudite and I was their precious little sister.

I love them. They linger.

I love Mark, Pandora, and Minerva too, but they don't feel like that. It doesn't feel like the ghosts of them wander around the house when I'm lonely. Maybe that's because I was so young when they left, maybe it's because every trace of them but our family photos has been scrubbed clean by time and change; or maybe it's just been so long that my connection to living with them, the way that they were an inextricable part of my day to day life is nothing but a fond memory. I wonder if my parents feel that way too; I wonder if they'll feel that way when I'm gone. In these recent months I have missed living with my siblings more than I ever have before and it's hard to tell if that's because I actually miss them and constantly having them around or simply longing for a time when I didn't have to worry about growing up. I was seven when Mark and Pandora left and that was the first experience I'd ever had with losing someone so close to me. I don't remember how my parents reacted, but I remember that Minerva was furious and I was terribly upset. I didn't really understand why my eldest brother and sister had decided to just leave like that. It wasn't even close to the last time I ever saw Mark of course. I've seen him many times since then, and I try to keep that in mind every time I get scared about never seeing my family again. Pandora is...different though. Erudite tries not to associate with Dauntless and it's not like she's ever reached out to us. But Mark and Minerva are still as present in my life as they can be; sometimes it feels like they are about as present as the twins are. That's not really something I like to think about either; no matter how pleasant the thought may be I know it's not true and all it serves to do is drag me down.

It's not that I resent any of my siblings for chasing the life that makes them happy, for doing everything that they want for themselves. I love them, it just gets sort of depressing being all alone in this massive house when I can very clearly remember a time when I was never alone, when there were always people around. Things still get crowded from time to time; my parents still have people over for all sorts of things and we go to even more social events than we host, but it's not the same without my siblings. It's boring and almost everyone I meet at those events is boring, and sometimes Erudite feels like everything I could ever want and need but sometimes I'm just bored of it all and there's nothing that I wouldn't do to get away. I wish that I could talk to one of the twins about it or something, or maybe Gwendolyn or Maureen would be better because they're both transfers. Gwendolyn came from Dauntless, she would know what it's like; but she never talks about it, she says that she left for a reason and that's all she's ever said of it. She and Maureen are perfect Erudite too, just different kinds. Gwendolyn devotes her entire life to her job and always has; she's like a supercomputer, it's really incredible actually. She's this quiet genius who doesn't waste time talking and is mostly action.

Maureen has always been great at balancing her life. She's struck a perfect harmony between her work, her new family, and her hobbies. Her life always seems so simple and easy and I know that's because she's put so much work into getting it figured out. I don't ask her about Candor often, but what she does tell me is hardly anything that I want to do. I never thought to ask her or Gwendolyn what it was like to transfer. I guess I shouldn't now or that would probably give something away.

Both of them and the twins would tell me to stay; in my position I'm sure that they would stay. I am pretty much Erudite so it is only logical that I choose it. My parents would say the same thing.

Mark and Casey would both want me in Amity with them; would try and convince me that it is the place that I would be happiest. And they're probably right; Amity is an infinitely kinder place than Erudite or Dauntless. But I'm not really sure if kind is what I want or what I am.

Minerva would probably just give me some non-advice like 'do what feels right', the problem is that nothing feels right. Nothing feels exactly like it fits me, like I'll fit anywhere, like I don't fit anywhere. I just want to be satisfied wherever I am, and I don't want to fail. I want to be somewhere where I can go far, where I can at least try to live up to my family's legacy. I am so afraid of falling behind if I stay; afraid of getting lost in the crowd and unable to ever rise to prominence like the rest of my family has. God knows Eliza could and does outclass me easily. Even the rest of the people that I don't like, like Dahlia, just because I hate them doesn't mean they aren't smart. Can I really risk the embarrassment and disappointment of not just falling behind, but never making up to a rank of any importance in the first place? There are so many people that are far more talented than I am, people who work so much harder than I do and I don't want to fall behind. Erudite is huge, and difficult, and daunting and I can't say with any certainty that I will survive here; there are so many that don't.

But would I fare any better in a place like Dauntless?

I like to think that I'm pretty fast; and I might not be as strong as some of those born into the faction but I am far from weak. Still, I've heard terrible things about Dauntless and the people that live there and what if that's just as bad as trying to survive Erudite? What if I can't make it there either?

I rub my eyes and sit up, drumming my fingers on the bed before standing up again. The clock on the nightstand tells me that it's almost five. It will be another three hours at least until my dad comes home, and he's the one of my two parents that comes home early. I very severely doubt that my mother or my siblings will make it over tonight. Between the problems with the Aptitude Tests and the last minute preparations that need to be made before the initiates arrive I am sure that everyone is plenty busy.

It's okay though, I'm used to it.

I read until my dad comes home in the late evening, finishing up a novel that I wasn't actually very interested and would never read again even if I would get the chance too. I hear the front door shut faintly and finish up the last paragraph of the book before getting up and opening my bedroom door. From the balcony that overlooks the living room I can see him pacing back and forth, on the phone.

"She's going to be so angry with you; you know that, right?" He runs is hand though his hair while the other person talks. "You know I love you and she loves you too, but that doesn't mean she's not going to be disappointed. I mean you're working through the last night we may ever get with her." He rolls his eyes at the person on the other line's response and I realize who he's talking to immediately. "I hardly doubt that matters, she'll just want to see you. Send Jeanine, Gwen, and the twins my love. Bye, Dear." He hangs up and turns, seeing me looking down.

He sighs and then smiles feebly. "Hey, Mim."

"Was that Mom?" I ask.

He frowns. "Yes. She's, uh, not going to be able to make it for dinner. None of them are."

I nod. I figured.

"But, uh, that's okay. Your mother says she'll be home later and we can do something then."

I nod again. '_ Later' _with my mother always means in the very earliest hours of the morning so she can get a few hours of sleep before going straight back to work. I guess I'll just see her tomorrow at the Choosing Ceremony.

"Why don't you take a seat on the couch and you can tell me about your day while I get started on dinner."

I walk downstairs and sit on the long couch. I know that I'm doing a poor job of masking my disappointment, I did a poor job of masking it when Melanie had to leave. I've come to expect it, but it still stings every time it happens. I can tell that my dad feels bad about it, and that he feels like he has to make it up to me. My dad is almost always doing extra things for me when my mother can't be around. I think that he thinks that I don't understand, but I do. I know that she's busy; I know my whole family's busy just like I know that he makes a conscious effort to take off early so I'm not alone into the late hours of the night but my mom is the faction representative and she doesn't have that luxury. Having to work all the time is basically in her job description and I know that.

I still miss her though.

"How did the test go?" my father asks from the kitchen.

"The test was fine."

"Melanie said there was some sort of malfunction with a few different ones."

"Yeah, she was telling me about that this afternoon. Some sort of system failure in which the results had to be entered manually."

"Happens pretty much every year," my father says. "You'd think with how far we've come in these past few decades we'd have better testing equipment." He glances back at me and chuckles. "Don't tell Jeanine I said that."

I laugh. "I'll be sure to do exactly that."

A long time ago, Jeanine worked on the team that developed the serum that they use for the Aptitude Test today, she and another scientist perfected it and that was the achievement that helped get her into office. It's why she's so popular; everyone knows what a genius she is and everyone is very aware of how much she has done for this city.

At the same time, my mother was already the faction representative. She got elected when she was twenty, the youngest ever, after her predecessor and mentor died suddenly of some sort of allergic reaction. She was poised to take over for him anyways and that process just got expedited after his sudden death. She has been serving on the council for the vast majority of her adult life and has held office for the second longest duration of time out of the ten council members. The only one who's been serving longer than she has is the Dauntless leader.

"Did anything interesting happen at work today?" I ask.

"Not in the slightest. I mean unless you want to hear about the seating arrangements for the Choosing Ceremony as well as the truly ungodly amount of meetings that it takes just to settle a minuscule component of our," he sighs and turns to look at me, an insincere and saccharine grin on his face. "endless dispute with Abnegation."

"Not really."

"So, big day tomorrow."

"Really big day," I agree.

"Have you given any thought to your choice?"

"Tons."

"And? How's that going?"

"Just fine." I leave out all of the parts about freaking the fuck out because I'm something rare and dangerous and I don't really belong anywhere. "What was choosing like for you, Dad?"

"Oh. Well, it was never much of a choice," he says. "I always knew what I wanted." I've heard people tell stories about choosing their faction before with wistfulness for their youth. But my father just sounds bitter about it; I don't know why, he was born Erudite, there shouldn't have been any bad blood there.

"Were you excited?"

"Sure," he says, though his voice suggests otherwise. "Always exciting, getting to start your life and whatnot. You really figure out who you truly are."

We're silent for a minute before I speak up again. "Dad."

"Yes, Sweetheart?"

"Why did you choose Erudite?"

_Give me a reason to stay _, I think. _Give me a reason that doesn't involve the family _. Tell me why you didn't leave.

He is silent for a long time before he says, "Because it was the only place that I ever wanted to be. I knew – I knew my friends, and my family, and I knew myself, and Erudite was the only place I felt like I belonged."

"You already knew Mom back then, right?"

"Mhm. Your mother, Jeanine, and I were good friends for quite some time before our choosing."

"So you stayed for her? – and, uh, the rest of your friends?"

"I stayed for me." And he sounds so sure of himself when he says it; sure of himself in a way that I don't know how to be. He knew himself, and he knew what he wanted, and he knew where he wanted to be. Everything that he did, he did for himself. For him, there was never any other way to go.

"Mimette, I want you to stay. But if that's not what you want, then you should follow your heart."

"Like Mark and Minerva did."

His brow furrows slightly, "Right."

It doesn't take a Candor to tell that he's being insincere. Neither of my parents really approve of Mark and Minerva's choices, though they will never say so aloud.

"What about Mom?" I ask. "Why did she stay?"

He shrugs, "I think she knew what she wanted out of life too. She was born into a life very much like yours and she was very determined to be a certain way. I honestly don't know, Mimette, you'll have to ask her."

I wish that I were like my parents, I wish that there were never any other way for me to be. I wish it were easy for me to stay, to look around and know that Erudite is all that I have ever wanted.

"What was your Choosing Ceremony like, Dad?"

"Well, I was a little older than you because that was just how things were back then. Why they changed it, I'll never understand." He rolls his eyes. "But I digress. It wasn't so different; same ceremony, different names. Nothing exciting. But the look on his face suggests something else, a tense smile like it was interesting.

I shrug. "You should tell me anyways. I don't really have anything else to talk about."

"Well, didn't you see your sister today? How was that?"

I scoff, "Oh yeah, I saw her for all of five minutes before she had to rush off back to work."

"Don't be like that," he says. "How was she while you saw her?"

"Fine, I guess. I mean, she seemed busy, but she always is."

"Mimette," my father says. "You know that your sister loves you very much, right? Your mother does too; they're just busy. Everyone is busy; that's just how life in Erudite is."

"I know."

It's part of the reason I don't want to stay. I've seen pretty much everyone I know get completely absorbed by their work. It consumes them and it sucks for everyone else in their life. I don't want that; I don't want to do that to other people and I don't want to do that to myself. I've never been afraid of hard work; but I'm a little uncomfortable with Erudite's insane workload. It doesn't seem like something even the most talented people could handle, even though they do, and it certainly doesn't seem like something I could handle. I don't have that kind of resolve that people like Eliza and Kira do. Just another thing that makes me glaringly not Erudite.

"By the way," I add, "she was wondering if you had the number of Damascus' floristry."

My father visibly cringes. "Uhm…Nope. No, I don't think I do." His voice is strangely high and tense. I'd expected him to be annoyed, not…whatever he is right now. He lets out an uncharacteristically nervous laugh. "_ Anyways _, how are your friends doing?" he asks. "Cassandra and Elizabeth, did their tests go well?"

I accept the change of subject and say, "Yeah, I think so." I don't tell him about how Casey plans to leave and how I know that I could follow her and Mark and that is a viable future for me. I could, but I'm not sure if I could ever thrive there. I don't tell him how I know that Eliza will fit better in Erudite better than I ever could and how I wish that I were like her. I wish that I could be Erudite enough.

"That's good. You girls must be very excited."

"Mhm." Maybe I'd be more excited if I didn't know for a fact that Casey was going to leave me; that if I stay I will always have Kira and Eliza but I might never belong the way that they do and I'm not sure how to keep that from bothering me. When I was younger I just assumed that those roles were something that people grew into, that by the time my Choosing Ceremony rolled around I would be as mature, and intelligent, and elegant as the rest of my Erudite family. But here I am a day away and I don't feel like any of that; I just feel like me. My father scoops the pasta he was making onto two plates and sets them on the table before returning to the kitchen to clean up before we sit down.

"I know that you're nervous," he says. "But I promise this is nothing to worry about. It's the start of the rest of your life, it's a happy occasion."

I nod.

"It can be...difficult to change and to lose people. They say that one in ten people transfer out of Erudite every year. But some people just aren't cut out for it." There's that thousand-mile stare again, like he's going back to some bad memory. "It's not...not nearly as hard as you think it is."

I'm not sure if he's right about that. My father is Erudite, so it comes naturally to him. But for me it all seems insurmountable at times. It feels like I would be better off leaving to do something else, to go somewhere where I have a better chance at making it through. I know just how difficult Erudite can be; just how absolutely horrific certain facets of being here can be and a small part of me can even understand why people in other factions might hate us. From the outside looking in, we must look awful to some people. For the Abnegation, who live dull and simple lives in their silence and complacency, we must look horrible. It's no secret that they find everything that we do, the way that we live, offensive on the deepest level. We are in direct contrast to everything that they believe in. I will never be Abnegation, that I know for sure. And I'll never be Candor, so that's two out. But I think about Amity and I think about Dauntless and to an extent they both seem feasible. If I were to work hard enough, maybe I'd be able to shape myself into what they are.

I get up from the couch and pick up my plate. "Dad, I think I'm just going to eat in my room. I – I have a lot to think about."

He looks up and smiles softly. "Okay, Mim. I understand. I love you."

"I love you too."

I start up the stairs and leave him to eat alone and I do feel sort of bad about that, but we both know that I really do have a lot to think about. My entire life depends on the choice that I make tonight.

No pressure or anything.

I guess what it really boils down to is what I want out of life. More than anything I want to live up to my family's legacy. I want to be as great as they are. I want to do something important, I want to be important. If I stay, I would never stop working; I would never be able to. I could throw myself into my work and let everything else become background noise. I could become well respected in my field, I could discover something important. I might just be able to do some real good. There's so much that I want to do and I'm not sure how to do any of it.

I could stay and I could always have my family close to me. I would always have my parents and the twins and everyone connected to them. I would get to keep almost all the people that I care about. I would get to keep everyone but Casey.

Or I could follow her to Amity. I could spend all of my days in the fields with people that are always smiling. We could be happy together. Someday the time that I would have Mark around would be greater than the time that he was gone. I would get to keep my first friend, and get my eldest brother back. I would never stop smiling; I would never be unhappy.

Or I could be Candor. I could pursue truth and justice, I could right the wrongs in the world. I would know Minerva not just as older and younger sister, but adult to another adult. Candor's service to the city is undeniable, despite the many flaws I see in them. They're the most like Erudite; after all, pursuing truth and pursuing knowledge are often one and the same. I would never feel far from home.

Or I could be Dauntless. I would have none of the security or the familiarity, but all of the adventure. I could decide for myself and by myself what sort of person I am and who I want to be. I would never have to worry about my family's expectations ever again because the choice alone would defy everything that everyone thought I would be. I could be strong, and bold, and loud. Dauntless have no sense of propriety or elegance and there is something amazing in that. Something awe-inspiring that draws me to them just a little bit. It would be a place of my own where I could establish myself without ever being in my family's shadow.

Abnegation is a non-answer. I want to help people, I want to serve my city, but I could never see myself clad in modest gray. I have spent my whole life trying to stand out, why would I ever choose to blend in?

I wonder if this is how Mark and Minerva felt when they decided to leave. They got to stake a claim to Amity and Candor respectively and no one ever associated them with who they were related to. If I go to Dauntless I could do the same.

But then I would never have those ties to my friends and family. I would grow apart from my friends and eventually lose them entirely, the time and the distance between us would eventually grow too large for any of us to hold onto anything but nostalgia. I might never see them again. I might even begin to forget them after a while.

If I become Amity I would lose all of the potential that I have to do something really amazing. Amity aren't exactly known for their complexity. Short of becoming a faction leader there is nothing that I as an individual could do for Amity or for Chicago. I might be losing my chance at greatness. I like and respect Amity and the people there; I think that there is a lot of strength in being so gentle and they play a great role in everyone's prosperity. We would not survive without them. But they're not exactly what I want. I mean, I see how I could choose there and I know that in some ways I could be happy. But I'm not sure if I could ever really be satisfied there, if I could live my life without ever looking back and wondering what might have been if I wasn't so afraid to try something.

If I stay, I might fail. It's as simple as that, I might wash out of initiation entirely or I might just never get out of my family's shadow. I could never amount to anything and simply be a disappointment. I could just as easily do exactly what I aim to and lose myself entirely in the process. I could lose all of my friends and everything that I care about and simply let my work become my entire life. I could do something really important and lose everything in the process. Worst of all, I'm not sure if that isn't worth it.

If I go to Dauntless I would be alone. I would know nothing and no one and I could still fail. Hardly anyone transfers to Dauntless because the chance of getting chewed up and spit out into factionless is so high. It's not for the faint of heart, though I suppose that is the point. I want to imagine that it's all thrill and fun, it looks like it's so much fun. Every Dauntless I've ever seen always looks so happy, like their whole life is an adventure. Part of me very desperately wants to feel that way, wants to feel free and reckless. It should all send me running, it should grate against everything I know and it does, but it doesn't irritate me and it certainly doesn't scare me. It fascinates me far more than it probably should. Fantasies are all well and good, but I'm supposed to be the person that my family wants me to be, and I do think that I have the best chance of doing that in Erudite. I want to be like my family, I want to be like my mother and to do that I have to stay Erudite. That is the highest score on my aptitude test and therefore it should come the most naturally to me. It is who I am. It has to be.

_September 1 __st __, Year 499_

_Tomorrow is the Choosing Ceremony and this year I will be a part of it. It's the day that every kid in the city waits for with great excitement. It's the day that we become adults. But me, well I'm terrified. I've never been totally sure of myself or my footing in Erudite, I always thought that I might just grow into it eventually. But clearly that hasn't happened. A few years ago, I started wondering if I just wasn't meant for Erudite; if maybe I belonged in Amity or Candor like Mark and Minerva did. It fascinated me as much as it terrified me. I knew even then that to be either of those things I would have to leave behind everything that I know. I would have to give it all up and hope that I'm making the right decision. I never really stopped thinking about that, but as my Choosing Day drew closer I just started pretending like nothing was wrong. I was hoping that the Aptitude Test would tell me how to decide, that it would clear away the fog and show me what had always been right in front of me this whole time; who I truly am._

_Instead it only confused me more._

_Apparently, I'm some sort of rare freak that can fit into more place than one and just writing this out could get me into some serious trouble. My test administrator never really told me what sort of trouble beyond 'don't tell anyone ever'. I don't ever want to find out exactly what those consequences might be. The test told me that, theoretically, I could suit any of the five._

_I had never even considered that Dauntless, Candor, or Abnegation could be a possibility. I had hardly thought about them at all except for the tiny glimmers of admiration I keep to myself. I mean, who doesn't admire them? Each faction has something about it that makes it beautiful._

_The Dauntless always look so happy, so free; they're like a daredevil version of the Amity – and I'm sure that any Dauntless would punch me for saying so, but it's true. The freedom to be whoever I wanted is not something that's been extended to me._

_What of the Candor? They're the same way. Could I see myself as a lawyer? Could I dress in black and white and let go of the affected, stifled attitude I've cultivated from years with the Erudite elite? Or would I forever be Minerva's weird sister._

_Sometimes, when I would visit my Amity cousins, I would imagine what it might be like to be Amity. Like the Dauntless and Candor they are unbound by a thousand social conventions. They just have one: be kind. But I've never really thought of myself as someone truly capable of breaking the rules set out for me since the day I was born._

_Except, according to the Aptitude Test, I am._

_I've never been especially superstitious; it's really hard to be in Erudite, which places importance on things that can be observed by at least one of the five senses and theories that can be tested over everything else. No one really believes in fate, or soulmates, or destiny, but I hear them used in hyperbole. I've heard enough about fate and destiny that even though I don't really believe in it, I can still think about it and sometimes I wonder if there really is something like it, if all of our choices are decided for us before we're even alive and there's nothing we can do to change it. Though, I guess that's a little bit bleak; I guess that really takes all of the control away from each and every individual and none of us really have any choice in anything. So maybe being fated for anything isn't really a good thing._

_I have a choice tomorrow. They will call my name and I will choose my faction and that will be the rest of my life right there, that will become my path. Whether or not I manage to actually make it wherever I choose is something else all on its own. I decide the way that I want my entire life tomorrow, and I'm terrified._

_It should be easy; the answer should obviously be Erudite. I know this place like the back of my hand, I'll have at least one friend here for sure and more than half my family. I could do something really amazing here and I can't just let that go to waste. I'm smart; I like learning and I've never been afraid of hard work. I know how to act and so many people already like me. If I make it through initiation then it should be very easy for me to climb to the top. I've put very little thought into what I really want to do with my life – I always thought that I should wait until I knew where I was going to choose to decide the career I wanted to pursue – but I have always been fascinated by the faction council. I guess that's one of the side effects of being the daughter of the Erudite rep and a council liaison. I think the work that the leaders and the people that work at the Hub do is interesting and important. I know that it can be vicious, and petty, that the reality of working on or for the council is often hard, boring, and thankless. I know that there's a million rules to it that no one ever teaches you and one misstep can ruin you._

_But still, I want to be there._

_It's lofty, and it's incredibly ambitious, but that's part of who I am and it's what most of my family does. I've never thought that I'm very arrogant, but I really do think that I can do it. Like I said, I have never been afraid of hard work. That career is something that I could do anywhere, it's all a matter of how easy the climb will be. I think that every faction presents its own unique challenges, especially Erudite, if I stay I will be subjected to the especially cruel and brutal competition and the mad grab for attention and the power that comes with that attention that every initiate who doesn't want to be lost in the pack has to make. I'll have to be prepared to fight tooth and nail for everything and I'll have to be prepared to fail. I have a bit of a leg up because I already know how Erudite's initiation works. But the thing that Michael told me about it that always stuck with me was that no matter what it will make you feel stupid and like you don't know anything and can't form an argument, because you are, and you don't, and you can't. Erudite bleeds the weak ones dry and that's why there's a twenty-five percent failure rate. Even some of the ones that manage to make it through suddenly find themselves swept away, unable to keep their heads above water or are eaten alive. Loyalty can either mean absolutely everything or absolutely nothing to people and sometimes that will change the moment they have the opportunity to get ahead. It's vicious, and I don't love it, it terrifies me. The twins never seemed bothered by it, but I guess they were always very confident in their abilities. I don't know how to be ruthless, that's not me. If nothing else, I am very sure of that. I just want to be happy in life and I want to make other people happy; I want to be able to do some good._

_I guess that's the Amity in me._

_I don't know how I'm supposed to do this. I don't know how I can possibly choose between my family and everything that I know and…something else? Something that might fulfill me in a way that Erudite couldn't? Something that makes me happier than I am here? I don't know; I don't know why I would ever even consider leaving, but I still do. I don't want to leave and I don't want to stay and I can't really think of a good and definitive reason for either. I can think of certain advantages and disadvantages to both possibilities, but neither are exactly something huge enough to make my decision even though some things should be. I should stay for my family, I should stay for my friends, I should stay for my future and to be the person that my family has always wanted me to be, the person that I have always wanted to be. I should go because I'm not really happy here, I should go because I can't stop thinking about what it would like to be anywhere but here, I should go because I crave a life that no one can stake a claim to but me, I should go because there's a sliver of a chance that I might be able to survive without everything I've ever known and part of me wants to take that chance._

_I just want to belong somewhere. I've always felt a little too out of place in Erudite, a little too much like I was playing a part that I was trained to fit into rather than being the person that I am. Erudite is in my blood, it is all that I have ever been taught to be. Everything my parents taught me to be was under the assumption that I would be Erudite and a really incredible one at that. They tried to show me the reality of being powerful in Erudite as best they could and I have met the most powerful people in Erudite and I have grown up around wealth and prosperity. I can name every department head and most of their family members. _

_The department heads and those who work for the Faction Council are among the most powerful in Erudite, the ones with all of the luxury and glory. I have been meeting them since I was very young and I have been taught how to be the perfect daughter. But I'm not sure how much of who I am is predisposition, a part of my personality, and how much of it has been ingrained into me because that's just how I'm supposed to be. I know how to be perfect, I was raised to be perfect. But can I keep this up my whole life? Will it eventually become natural or will I always feel out of place in my own faction?_

_But if I leave, if I become Dauntless and forgo everything that I know for a wild kind of freedom that I've never really experienced, then I would be the first in my family to do so. I would have no one to help or guide me, I would be totally alone and I wouldn't have any connection to anything or anyone from Erudite. Dauntless and Erudite don't not get along, but Erudite does sort of have a superiority thing over them. I guess it's just that we're a little more elegant and refined then they are. I know that if I left my family would never approve; I know what they think of the Dauntless. But if faction before blood is to be believed, I guess it doesn't matter what they think of my choice._

_Except that it matters to me. I love them very, very much and I want them to be proud of me. I'm growing up, but in a lot of ways I'm still just a child looking for attention and approval._

_UGH! I don't even want to think about this anymore, it's kind of giving me a headache. I just wanted things to be normal; I just wanted to know what I was supposed to do and then do it. It wasn't supposed to be this complicated, I wasn't supposed to not fit anywhere. Maybe I should just choose Erudite because I know it best, because it would be easy to blend in and pretend like I'm normal and pretend like everything's fine forever. I could live a long and happy life here; I could achieve the life that my siblings have if I really tried hard enough. Or I could try to live a life apart from everyone and everything and hope that it all works out for me. I could take a chance and hope that I don't crash and burn. It might be good for me, it might even be great._

I spend the rest of me evening reading and eating. I only fall asleep because I don't have anything better to do, and I'd like to delay the next morning as long as I can.

"Mimette," someone's voice breaks through my dream. "Mimette, Sweetheart, wake up. Everyone's waiting downstairs."

I open my eyes and blink a few times before rolling over. My mother is standing over me, looking like she either just came from work or is just about to leave.

"Come on, the others are downstairs." She turns, beckoning for me to follow.

Confused, I sit up and after a moment of trying to wake up I stand up and follow my mother downstairs. Before I leave I take a quick glance at my clock, it's only a little past three in the morning.

I plod downstairs after my mother, squinting in the bright light but my eyes pop open at what I find waiting for me in the living room.

"Surprise," Melanie says with a smirk.

"Wh-what-" I yawn. "What are you all doing here?"

"We felt bad about missing dinner," my mother says. "So we figured we'd make it up to you the moment all of us could."

They all look exhausted, all except Maureen having just come off of what was most likely a twenty-one-hour day with only tiny moments of reprieve and here they all are like they're not all totally wiped. They all came; Gwendolyn and Melanie are sharing the love seat on the far side of the living room, Michael is sitting on the arm of Maureen's chair, and Jeanine sits on the couch. My mother joins her there. In the kitchen, my dad is pouring mugs of coffee, still in his pajamas with sleep in his eyes and his black hair curling up at weird angles.

"I can't believe you all did this," I say, tired but thrilled with a genuine smile tugging at my lips.

"Anything for our little sister," Michael says, smiling at me.

I kneel on the floor in front of the coffee table and my dad sets a mug in front of me on a coaster before moving to the couch and curling up next to my mother, who puts her arm around his shoulders.

"So, Mimi," Jeanine says, she's the only one that calls me that. Everyone else just calls me Mim or Mimette. She's had that nickname for me ever since I was a kid. "Do you think you've come to a decision?"

I look up from my coffee at her, and then at everyone else. They all stare at me sort of expectantly and I know the answer they all want, the answer that I want to give them.

"Yeah," I lie. "Of course I do. Wasn't exactly that hard of a choice."

I wish that that were true; I wish it were true more than they could ever know. I know exactly what sort of person they want me to be and I wish with all my heart that I could give that to them. I wish that I could just definitively say that I'm Erudite, that I am their perfect daughter, their perfect sister, that I'm someone they can really be proud of.

"And that choice would be?" Michael says.

"Erudite, obviously." The lie almost physically pains me, it makes my chest contract in a weird way as guilt and fear twist together inside of me. It kind of sounds right; I can just get up tomorrow and get ready and then choose Erudite and come right back to the faction I've always known. No one would ever have to know that there was something different about me. Or I could leave, and they would all know that I lied to them.

But the way that they all smile almost makes it all worth it, and it makes me want to stay. I love my family, and I wouldn't trade them for anything in the world. Not even my own adventure.

Right?

We talk for a while, a small lively little gathering in the dead of night. I've heard of the image that some of my family members project, I've even seen it sometimes. But when they're home, it's hard to ever think of them like that. It's difficult to ever see Gwendolyn as cold and silent, always watching and always scowling when she has the loudest laugh among us and one of the softest, most genuine smiles I've ever seen. She looks gentle and kind, and it's a wonder how people don't see it. Michael likes to present a similar persona; all apathy, and rolling eyes, and icy professionalism; but he laughs like Gwendolyn, and banters easily with Melanie, and looks at Maureen with so much affection and adoration. My family is so warm, and kind, and full of life and I don't want to leave them. I want to be the person they want me to be; I want to make them proud.

I don't even remember falling back asleep. What I do remember is my mother guiding me upstairs and putting me back to bed. She pressed a kiss to my forehead and then left me to my rest.


	5. Chapter 5: Spontaneous Combustion

When I wake up, everyone is gone but my father. He reads the news on his tablet while sipping his coffee.

"Where's Mom?" I ask and follow it up with a yawn.

"She had some things to take care of before the ceremony starts, we'll see her there though."

I look back at the living room, going back to late last night or early this morning maybe. I love my family dearly; if I stay, it will be in part for them.

I love Erudite of course, but I do not think I would be half as attached to it if I didn't have such a fantastic family. I know that not everyone is lucky like me. Casey and Eliza aren't lucky like me. I have a family that loves me, that would be thrilled to see me remain, that doesn't want to lose me in the way that we lost Mark and Minerva. Of course we still love them, and sometimes we even see them; but in a lot of ways they really are gone. I miss them more than I can really describe. It's gotten better with time, the pangs of their absence don't get to me nearly as much as they used to. But I still hate grappling with the idea that they're _ gone _, that they chose to leave. I begrudge them nothing, I can't, but it doesn't make me miss them any less. It doesn't mean that they didn't still leave us.

And can I subject my family and friends to that same absence? The gaping wound that doesn't so much heal over as it does get stitched shut? The twins, and my parents, and my Erudite cousins who have already dealt with losing two of my siblings. Can I do that to them?

What would I even be gaining if I did?

I've already decided that I will never be Candor. That was easy; I lie far too much and my secret is far too dangerous for me to ever join my eldest sister in her faction. But Amity…Amity is a different story. I could fit in Amity; I could be very happy there. Happy and without a care in the world. Casey and I would always be together, I would have my brother close to me in a way that he wasn't when we were kids, and I'd always be surrounded by my cousins. We loved each other very much but I was very little, I was only seven when he left, we never really did get to spend a whole lot of quality time together.

I don't even really want to think about Dauntless. I want it to go back to being a non-option because now things are even more confusing. It's like the very suggestion awakened something in me that I've been suppressing for years; like I haven't been watching the Dauntless with curiosity, but with admiration, with the desire to be just like them. My family and my faction disapprove of the Dauntless enough that it didn't even cross my mind that I might be like them because I was trying so hard to be the perfect daughter. I suddenly want it; I want to be like them, I want to be among them. I want to be Dauntless so badly that it scares me. It scares me because I love Erudite and I know that I'd be among my friends and family, and it would be the best choice for my future. But I also know that my parents wouldn't begrudge me transferring to Amity too terribly. They dealt with it once already. But Dauntless is something else entirely; Dauntless is unknown, and dangerous, and something that I have been taught to never be. I'm too refined to ever be quite so boisterous and forget about all of those insane stunts. Melanie always said that the only good things to ever come out of Dauntless were their dancers and Gwendolyn. Gwendolyn always frowns when she says that because she hates being associated with the Dauntless in any way. Five years of living in Erudite, where she so clearly belongs, has turned her against her birth faction and she finds the idea that she may still be like them in any way very deeply insulting. Victoria doesn't ever speak of her Dauntless roots either, but when she left it wasn't her choice; when she left it wasn't on happy terms. She had to leave Dauntless because she was suddenly and horribly orphaned and the only person willing to take her was Gwendolyn. She shrinks away at the very mention of her former home and she doesn't act very Dauntless. In my experience, Dauntless children are loud and rowdy; but Victoria is as quiet and reserved as her older sister, though she smiles just a little more. According to Melanie, the reason she was allowed to live here with Gwendolyn is because she was young enough when it happened that her personality could still be shaped and reshaped in a way that an adult's or even a teenager's can't. And from the outside looking in, ignoring her last name, you would never know that she wasn't born Erudite.

Dauntless is everything I've never known really. This shadowy place that spit out my sisters-in-law and best friend, and took away my other pseudo-sister. It terrifies and enchants me, even if every sensible bone in my body screams that entertaining thoughts like these are a terrible idea.

My dad and I relax around the house until two thirty and, honestly, I couldn't think of a better way to spend my last day in this house. I just wish that my mom was here too.

I go back up to my room to start getting ready and suddenly the anxiety hits me again. I'm really choosing today. This is really happening. Whether I stay or go, I am never going to sleep in this room again. I'm not a child anymore; I become an adult today and I have never been more scared in my life.

I don't take much. I leave my phone on my bed, I'll either retrieve it when I come back to Erudite or I won't. The cobalt blazer I decide to wear has an interior pocket just large enough to fit my journal and so I take that, because it will be the only thing that I can never replace. I keep my outfit and my makeup simple and I spend the last few minutes before we have to leave staring in the mirror. These are my last few moments as a child, my last few moments before my life changes forever. This evening Casey will be gone, Kira will be here, and I could go either way. I always thought that I would have it all figured out by now, that I would just _ know _.

I don't know, obviously; I don't know and I don't think I will know until I'm staring my choice in the face. There's so many reasons to stay, and so many reasons to go, so many reasons to choose Amity or to choose Dauntless. Either way, tonight I will be a different person. I will either have my whole family behind me (sans Mark, Pandora, and Minerva), only Casey and Mark, just Minerva, or no one at all. And there isn't a single thing that makes one choice stick out as more right than the others.

Of course I know that if I asked someone then the answer would vary. If I asked my parents, the twins, or Jeanine, they would say that Erudite is the correct choice because I have such a bright future here. Gwendolyn would tell me to stay because I fit so well. Maureen would tell me to stay because there's nothing fun about transferring, and because there's so much for me here. Eliza would say Erudite too, but more because it's my home; it's _ our _ home. Mark and Minerva, I think, would say that my own happiness and satisfaction are far more important than sticking to what I know; that sometimes people just have to leave and if there's even a sliver of me that thinks I might be one of those people then I probably am. Casey would tell me to make my choice for myself, whatever that may be; not because it's what my family wants, or because I'm afraid of being out of my depth, or even because I want to be with her, because at the end of the day _ I _ have to live with my decision. Kira would tell me to follow my heart, not my head, to lean into the gravity that I feel most strongly and it doesn't matter where that is. My cousins – my dozen and a half cousins – would all give different reasons but at the end of the day their suggestions would be basically the same, Erudite obviously or Amity if I absolutely must because our roots as a family are so important and always have been; we all love Minerva, but at the end of the day she really is the odd one out.

Everyone I know, or at least what I know of everyone, has made it seem like they always have known what they wanted. Their choices were clear; my friends' choices are clear, I remember my siblings' choosing days well and I don't remember them being afraid. Because Michael and Melanie always knew themselves, and Minerva never cared what anyone thought, and Mark was always stronger than he seemed at a glance. I'm not like that; I don't know, I do care what people think of me and I especially care about what my family thinks of me, and I don't know how to be strong.

I'm afraid of never being happy no matter where I end up, that I'll always be stuck wishing for more – for something different. In Erudite life is a never ending blur of progress and productivity set to the tempo of a thousand pairs of heels and dress shoes walking through their daily routine. In Amity life is peaceful but plain, laughter fills the fresh air and everyone has a job to do; everyone is always smiling, always happy and the peace (from what I know of the weekends I've spent up there, sleeping on a cot on my cousins' bedroom floors) is something like bliss. And Dauntless, Dauntless is…I don't know. I've never been there, hell, I've never even _ seen _ their compound. Kira won't take my friends and I anywhere near it, says that non-members aren't even allowed to _ be _ around the compound and we'd get in way more trouble being with her than she would with us. But from what I've seen of its members, nothing is ever the same for long and life is never boring. In fact, I would wager that an unwritten part of being Dauntless is to never be boring or let your life be boring.

Even if, in theory, I do decide to leave I'm still caught between Amity and Dauntless and neither one outweighs the other in any significant way. One is where I will spend the rest of my life by my best friend's side, always smiling, always happy; and the other is where I will either become the person that I am meant to be without my friends and family, or I will crash and burn, and there is absolutely no in between. I have a much higher chance of failing Dauntless initiation and if we're talking logic and statistics, then I should obviously go for Amity because that will prevent me becoming factionless. But ignoring logic entirely, I can't deny that there is a part of me that very desperately wants to be Dauntless. Dauntless just calls to me and I know that I could, theoretically, lean into those feeling and take my chances. But what happens if I fail? What happens when my family is inevitably disappointed by my choice? I won't go as far to say that I _ need _ their approval, but it's certainly nice to know that your parents are proud of what you've decided to do with your life. As for my failure, well, I won't pretend like I'm exactly Dauntless material. I'm not especially small or scrawny, and I'm not afraid of hard work, but that's about all I have going for me. I have a very long way to go if I ever want to be like the people that I've admired for so long.

"Mimette," my father calls from downstairs. "Come on, let's go."

I secure my hair with one more bobby pin and smooth my skirt before heading out.

"Are you feeling okay?" he asks when I reach the bottom of the stairs.

I nod, "Just fine."

"Nervous?" He gives me a sympathetic look.

"Terrified," I say with a feeble smile.

We are silent throughout the car ride over, though my dad looks like he wants to say something. I am far too nervous to make conversation and all I want to do is just go home. I don't want to do this, I don't want to go anywhere, and I'm so afraid that I will make the wrong choice. I cannot make the wrong choice, my life depends on it. I will not – cannot – be factionless; cast out from society because they weren't able to make it in their faction, weren't able to fit in. The thought terrifies me.

Factionlessness tends to be a vicious cycle; the city does what it can for the factionless children, sends them to school, sends them to Amity when they can, Abnegation tries their best but people always slip through the cracks. And the worst part is that most children born factionless will often remain factionless; some are able to make it through an initiation and become a member, but some don't, and some are so jaded and misguided that they think it would be better to be factionless like their parents even though they know that it damns them to poverty.

I cannot be like them. I have to have a future; I have my entire life ahead of me. I cannot fail. I cannot even run the risk of failure.

Or can I?

We arrive at the Hub and I wish that I could just stay in the car. I am only more apprehensive the closer get. Still, I open my door and get out, shivering in the September wind. The sky has clouded over, making the day look as dark and ominous as it feels. I don't know how I can do this; I don't know how anyone can do this. For so many people the choice is easy; for all of my friends the choice will be easy. For me, it might just be the hardest thing I've done in my life. Once I make my choice it will stick for the rest of my days. I probably should have come to a decision before now, I'm sure everyone else already has. Everyone but Casey and Eliza, who have known exactly what they would do for years now. Eliza will always be Erudite and Casey will always choose Amity, there is no keeping them both and theoretically I could stay with either.

I stare blankly ahead as we ascend the steps to the building, trying to look as icily professional as my fellow Erudite. I clasp my hands together in front of me so that they don't tremble. My nerves must be coming off me in waves anyways. I am so afraid and there is no way that it doesn't show.

We pack into an elevator with a collection of Amity and Candor, not a Dauntless in sight. The train must be running late today or something.

I still want to run. I want to never have to choose. Maybe I should just choose Erudite so that I can stick to what I'm familiar with. It is what I know and it's what I'm good at. I could thrive here, I know that I could. But it still doesn't really feel right.

The ceremony is held on the twentieth floor and it always takes my breath away every time I see it. Everyone comes to Choosing Ceremony, it's not mandatory, but people show up anyways. I am always blown away by the sheer amount of people, and all of the color and life in one place. Every faction has its own section of seats and so it creates these huge swaths of color and it's so beautiful. I look around to see if I can spot my siblings, who I know are all here. The twins came to support me, Mark and Minerva came because they're part of their factions' leadership and they have to – but also to support me. But I don't see any of them anywhere. I do see my mother though; she is descending the stairs in between Erudite and Candor sections with Jeanine at her side. I point her out to my father and we begin to weave through the crowd until we're just behind an Abnegation family, who stop in front of the stairs as my mother and Jeanine reach the bottom.

"Pardon me," my father says, ducking around them and pulling me along with him. We stand with my mother, looking down at the four Abnegation.

"Hello, Jeanine,' the older man says. He nods at my parents, "Carolina. John."

"Good morning, Andrew," Jeanine says.

After a moment I recognize the man as Andrew Prior, Abnegation's representative. Out of everyone on the council, my mother and Jeanine hate him the most.

The short girl with red-brown hair who is covered in freckles, presumably his daughter, stares up at us with curious eyes.

"How's Marcus holding up?" Jeanine asks.

Marcus Eaton is Abnegation's leader and chairman of the Faction Council. I don't know much about him as a person, but I think that I've overheard my parents speaking about him with Lucy Sharp, one of Erudite's reporters who most often covers politics. She's also infamous for dragging people's names through the mud. She's written pieces about Abnegation's corruption at large, but as of late has taken to attacking their leaders' character directly more or less.

Andrew shrugs slightly, "As well as can be expected."

"We need to find out who's behind these rumors," Jeanine says.

Of course, I think that everyone already knows who's behind them. Lucy reports on them most often, with many of her pieces co-written by Gordon Diarmond. Though, they defend themselves saying that they didn't create the news, they only report on it.

"I think we all know who it is," the older Abnegation woman says.

I almost laugh, but press my lips together and look away instead. My parents glance at each other wearing matching frowns.

"If it's someone from Erudite," Jeanine says, "I promise that I'll find out who."

Everyone already knows who it is both inside and outside of Erudite, but it's kind of an unspoken rule that no one ever speaks of it. No one's exactly eager to drag Lucy down because she's a department head and that would be bad and difficult to prove. The powerful people in Erudite hold all the cards, and Lucy is certainly powerful.

"And these are your children," Jeanine changes the subject. "I don't think I knew they were choosing today." She looks at the boy, "What's your name?"

"I'm Caleb," he responds quickly with a starstruck look on his face. A second passes before he remembers himself and extends his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you.

"Jeanine Matthews."

"Carolina Captor-Malachite, and this is my husband John."

"Erudite's lead council liaison," my father says.

"And you are?" Jeanine says to the girl.

She stays silent as her brother nudges her.

"This is Beatrice," Caleb finally says with an awkward smile.

"And her?" Andrew gestures to me. It's unlike Abnegation to notice and question things; how curious.

"My daughter," my mother says, "Mimette."

"It's very nice to meet you all," I say, forcing a smile. This is easy, this is easier than choosing will be.

Andrew and his wife share a look that I don't quite understand and honestly don't care to. My mind is elsewhere, I still haven't decided what I will choose. It won't be Abnegation, but I have known that all my life.

"Well," Jeanine says, "the three of you have a big decision to make today. I'm sure your parents will support whatever choice you make."

There's a fine line between tolerating and supporting and I can't say what side of the line my parents would be on should I choose to leave. I love my family, and I want to make them happy, and I want to be happy too. I know that all of that is achievable if I stay, or at least most of it is achievable if I stay. I think that I could be happy here, I think, maybe. I keep going through the reasons that I should stay and that doesn't make them anymore compelling. But that doesn't mean I want to leave either.

"Well it's not supposed to be a choice," Beatrice says, snapping me from my thoughts. "The test should have told us what to do."

Well, it didn't work that way for me.

"You're still free to choose," Jeanine says.

"But you don't really want that."

Her brother looks mortified, her parents are just incredulous.

"Beatrice," Caleb hisses.

"We should really be going," Andrew says tensely.

"No, no; it's _ fine _," Jeanine says. "I want you to choose who you truly are and where you truly belong. Not on a whim, not because you wish you were someone you're not, but because you honestly know yourself. I want you to choose wisely." She smiles. "and I know you all will."

"Come on, Mimette," my mother says. "We should go take our seats."

"Right." Andrew nods. "We should be going as well, the ceremony will be starting soon. Best of luck to you, Mimette."

"Thank you."

_ I'm going to need it. _

The Prior family walks away and I sit down in the second row of seats. My parents share a quick kiss as they link arms and then whisper quietly to each other for a moment. They separate again and my father sits down beside me and my mother stays standing next to Jeanine.

Jeanine puts her hand on my shoulder, looking down at me with a softness in her eyes that most people don't see. "Mimi, you know where you belong, right?"

"Of course I do," I say with a smile. I stand again and give her a quick hug.

It's the same lie that I've been telling everyone for the past forty-eight hours. Hopefully I'll have it figured out by the time I have to choose, I only have a few hours or so.

She kisses me on the cheek and then sits down in the front row.

My mother hugs me tightly next "Whatever you choose, I love you, Mimette, and I always will."

"Thanks, Mom. I love you too." I sit back down.

My mother sits down beside Jeanine and then my father puts his hand on her shoulders, leaning down to kiss her on the cheek and then muttering to her.

"I know," I overhear her whisper.

He sits up straight again and pulls me into another hug. "I love you very much, Mim. Wherever you go, I'm sure you'll do great things."

Despite their words, I do not think that either of them expect me to leave. They didn't expect it of Mark and Minerva, both were very painful surprises. They hardly even said goodbye.

Maybe I should say goodbye.

I twist around in my seat to see if I can catch sight of my friends. A few rows behind us and far to the left I can see Eliza with her parents, the white bow that she always wears is the giveaway. She gives me a subtle wave and a smile that I return.

Even farther behind us I see Casey with her father. I know that she has waited for this day for a very, very long time. I should have said something more to her yesterday, if she chooses Amity and I don't then that's it; she's gone. Casey and the others know how much I care for them, they always will, but I should have said more. Eleven years of friendship and all I could muster were a few words and a hug.

I scan the crowd coming in for the twins with their families, but I can't find them. From here I can sort of see the Amity; Mark is sitting one chair from the far left end of the front row, one of his legs crossed over the other and he seems to be staring blankly at the stage. And next to us in the Candor section is Minerva already seated but, talking to someone still standing. I can't see the Dauntless very well from where I'm sitting, only a sea of black clad bodies and none that look like Kira.

_ Kira _, who will spend her first night in Erudite tonight. I'm excited for her, this is where she's always wanted to be and I really hope everything works out the way that she wants.

As I wait for the ceremony to start I run through how this is going to go. We will be called to the stage in reverse alphabetical order according to our last names. Eliza will be the first of my friends to choose, then Kira, then Casey, and then me. I will walk to the stage, take the knife that I am offered, slice open my hand, and drop my blood in the bowl belonging to the faction that I choose. The five large bowls already sit on the stage; smooth gray stones for Abnegation, dark soil for Amity, broken glass for Candor, clear water for Erudite, and lit coals for the Dauntless. Whatever choice I make is permanent. I cannot make a mistake. I do not know what I'm going to do.

Marcus Eaton steps onto the white stage. He clears his throat and it echoes through the speakers in the ceiling all over the room.

"Welcome," he says. "Welcome to the Choosing Ceremony. Welcome to the day we honor the philosophy of our ancestors, which tells us that everyone has the right to choose their own way in this world. Our dependents are now sixteen. They stand on the precipice of adulthood, and it is now up to them to decide what kind of people they will be." Marcus's voice is solemn and gives equal weight to each word. "Centuries ago our ancestors realized that it is not political ideology, religious belief, race, or nationalism that is to blame for a warring world. Rather, they determined that it was the fault of human personality—of humankind's inclination toward evil, in whatever form that is. They divided into factions that sought to eradicate those qualities they believed responsible for the world's disarray." What to I believe in? What am I supposed to be? "Those who blamed aggression formed Amity with their founder Ray Brighton." The Amity have always seemed kind and loving and free. I could be among them if that is what I wanted; I could be close to Mark and Casey, spend my life among the fields, always smiling.

"Those who blamed ignorance became the Erudite with their founder Glynda Seibold."

I could stay. With my parents, the twins, and my friends. I could let everything else fade away in my pursuit of knowledge. I could stay and be the person my family wants me to be, the person that in some ways I do want to be. I love it here, I really do.

"Those who blamed duplicity created Candor under the direction of their founder Julianna Gilbert."

My secret is far too dangerous to live in the faction of honesty.. But that doesn't mean I don't feel bad that I can't join Minerva.

"Those who blamed selfishness made Abnegation with their founder Miles Arden."

I could never be Abnegation.

"And those who blamed cowardice were the Dauntless with their founder Kerrian Price."

Dauntless, the faction that I have always admired but never believed I could be. Dauntless, an idea that is suddenly achievable, suddenly something I can be.

"Working together, these five factions have lived in peace for many years, each contributing to a different sector of society. Abnegation has fulfilled our need for selfless leaders in government; Candor has provided us with trustworthy and sound leaders in law; Erudite has supplied us with intelligent teachers, doctors, and researchers; Amity has given us understanding counselors and caretakers; and Dauntless provides us with protection from threats both inside and outside the wall. But the reach of each faction is not limited to these areas. We give one another far more than can be adequately summarized. In our factions, we find meaning, we find purpose, we find life. Apart from them, we would not survive. Faction before blood."

"Faction before blood," the crowd repeats in near unison.

How ironic I find it that we use blood to choose our faction, that it is our blood that binds us to it. But it might just be that blood we're supposed to ignore that is the driving force behind my choice. My family, my friends who I think of as family. I love them too much to ever really leave them.

"How lucky we all are to be alive right now in such an incredible time of cooperation and peace. This day marks a happy occasion; the day on which we receive our new initiates, who will work with us toward a better society and a better world."

A round of applause. I cannot choose, I don't know how to choose. I don't know what I want to be and I never have. Perhaps I should simply take the path of least resistance, Erudite. But that doesn't sound entirely satisfying; it doesn't entirely sound like what I want.

The first girl to choose decides on Amity, the same faction from which she came. She takes a seat in the empty front row reserved for initiates and her faction greets her with a round of applause.

The room is constantly moving, a new name and a new person choosing, a new knife and a new choice. I do not recognize them, but I have been near them all my life.

"Elizabeth Reynolds." Marcus calls.

Eliza rises and walks to the stage as graceful and confident as ever. She is very quick about her choice and very obviously sure of it. She drops her blood in the water, and when she turns back I can see her grin. I'm happy for her, I genuinely am. She will live well here, I would very much like to continue to be her friend.

"Erudite," Marcus announces.

Eliza has chosen. My turn will come too soon; I grow more nervous by the second.

She sits down in the front row with the other initiates and twists in her seat to look at me and flash another smile. There's something very hopeful in her eyes, she wants me here with her and Kira; she cares about me a lot and I care about her, I don't want to leave her.

"Kira Elysium," is the next name that I hear, recognize, and care about.

I crane my neck to see her walking down the steps from further up. She wears a soft smile on her face, and I can see Eliza in the front row bouncing her leg anxiously. They've both waited a long time for this day and now I think the idea of having to wait another minute would be unbearable.

She takes the knife, and with more self-assurance than I've possessed in my entire life, she drops her blood in the water and walks quickly down the steps to take the seat next to Eliza. I can't quite reach them, but she twists around in her seat to grin at me too and I try to return it despite my own nerves. Out of the corner of my eye I see my father cast us a curious glance. Kira's presence in my life has been the biggest thing I've kept from my parents. I don't even think I could really explain it now if I tried, honestly the fact that I'd kept it secret this long seems sort of trivial in retrospect.

I stop paying attention again after that, knowing that there are dozens of people between Kira and Casey, but when she is called I sit up ramrod straight.

There's no hesitation in her face, just determined resolve. In fact, on her way down the steps she smiles at me but I can't bring myself to return it, too sad about her leaving even if I know it's for the best and too afraid of my own choice looming ahead of me.

I let myself think about following her, about what my life might be like in Amity. I can almost see it; the scenery, the work, Mark, Casey, and my cousins. But the illusion breaks when I try and imagine myself alongside them. Even in my own mind I seem out of place.

I don't understand. Aren't I supposed to be able to fit there? Isn't that the whole damn point of my mixed test results. How did I manage that result if I can't really be there?

None of those questions are ones I really want answered. In fact, finding out more about this almost scares me more than not knowing at all. Which I guess isn't very Erudite of me.

Or Dauntless.

"Amity," Marcus announces.

Casey leaves the stage with her shoulders dropped slightly, she seems relieved and I can't blame her. My father reaches out and squeezes my hand.

"I know she was your friend," he murmurs.

I nod, but can't find my voice to respond. The next and last person of my little group of friends is me, everything that will be waiting for me wherever I choose has already fallen into place. I know exactly what I'm getting myself into.

So why do I still not know?  
Erudite. Erudite is the best choice for me; everything I've ever known and loved has been here, everything I am – or at least what I thought I was before twenty-four hours ago – is here. If I stay then the sky's the limit, I think that the rest of my family has already proven that there's nothing in this world I can't do by virtue of the advantages granted to me by my family's standing. I am so much luckier than most, I have had everything handed to me and the deck is stacked in my favor here. It wouldn't just be stupid to leave, it would be ungrateful.

Every time a new person steps up, a new faction is declared, a knife is replaced, I grow more nervous.

I'm running out of time to make my decision.

"Mimette Captor-Malachite."

I'm out of time.

I stand despite the urge to stay rooted to my spot, and begin to descend the stairs.

I glance over to the Amity to look at Casey. She flashes me another smile that I again can't bring myself to return. Mark is smiling at me too, though very subtly. After a second he gives me a small wave. Oh I want to join him, Casey, and my cousins so much. I skim the crowd but can't find a single one of them. Oh well, I know that they're watching me.

No pressure.

Kira twists again to look at me as I rise. Yesterday I told her that I already knew what I was going to do; I wonder if she's figured out I was lying yet.

As I pass the front row I am close enough that Minerva could reach over the leader of her faction, Jack Kang, and touch me. She gives me a knowing smile and I feel bad all over again, I do regret not being able to join her.

My heart pounds as I ascend the steps to the stage. Jeanine and my mother look up and smile at me, I told them that I knew what I was choosing and where that was. It's a lie either way but do I really need them to know that? Jeanine straightens in her chair and I straighten my spine as well. I am my parents' prim, perfect, _ Erudite _ daughter. I know what they want and need from me.

I take the knife from Andrew, it gleams brightly in the light. All of my sixteen years of life have led up to this moment. I have had sixteen years to decide and now I'm standing here and I'm still unsure. My blood in the already red water, my blood soaking into the dirt, my blood crackling on the coals. I exhale and press the blade into the edge of my left hand, wincing at the sting and tilting it so that the blood flows into my palm. I stand before the bowls and then turn my head, looking back at the color-coded crowd. That's when I find Gwendolyn. She is sitting almost dead center in the fifth row with the other department heads and their families, she must have been late, and around her are Michael, Melanie, Maureen, and Victoria; but she is the only one that I am focusing on. Gwendolyn left Dauntless because Erudite is where she belonged. She gave up everything she knew and everyone that she loved to become the person that she wanted to be. Not the person that she was, but the ideal. Not the person that her family wanted to be, but because she knew who she wanted to be. She knew how she wanted her life to be. I wonder if she was ever unsure, I wonder if she was ever afraid.

I step to the right and I am standing between the Erudite and Dauntless bowls. Amity is out; sorry Mark, sorry Casey.

I don't believe in fate; I am not _ fated _ for anywhere, I choose where I belong. In the end the choice is mine; in the end this is something that I have to do alone.

I extend my shaking arm all the way, and then I turn my hand over, opening my fingers, and my blood falls on the coals.

I know the person that I want to be and I trust in her, and I don't care about what everyone else wants out of me.


	6. Chapter 6: Prove It

I am in a haze of disbelief for a while. I can't believe I did that. I can't believe that's what I chose. My heart pounds in my chest still and I'm breathing heavily. I don't even regret it; I cannot regret it. I stare down at the band-aid over the cut in wonder and I cannot help the smile that splits my face.

I spend the rest of the ceremony watching the people that I love too closely. Casey and I meet eyes across the auditorium more than once. We're both so far off the paths chosen for us, and all we can do is hope that it pays off.

My parents, Mark, Minerva, and Jeanine continue to watch the ceremony without looking in my direction once. But there's something different in Minerva's expression, I can't tell if she's smiling or grimacing.

There's too many people in between the others and I. Maybe I don't even want to see their reactions.

Before I know it, the ceremony is over, another batch of adults thrown out into the world, my choice cemented forever.

The Abnegation transfer sitting to the left of me looks a little stunned that she's even here. I understand the feeling.

Because the Dauntless sit closest to the doors, we are the first to leave. As the line streams out the door I risk one last glance back at everything I've left behind. It's easy to pick everyone out now that I know where they were sitting. Mark runs a hand through his curls, shaking his head slightly in disbelief. Casey is looking back at me, this time I do return her smile. Eliza and Kira only have eyes for each other, chattering excitedly as they embrace. Jeanine is staring at me too, I see no disapproval in her eyes, only pure unadulterated shock. The twins and their families are leaving as one complete unit, talking at a mile a minute with all the hand gestures in the world and casting quick glances in my direction. As surprised as they seem they also look vaguely impressed – all of them do – and something hums in my chest, because I put those looks there and they aren't upset. My parents clasp each other's hands tightly and don't speak, my father looks stunned, my mother looks disappointed. Minerva is looking back at me too despite Jack Kang clearly trying to talk to her, one hand on her hip and a slight smile on her face. She shakes her head and then turns away. I can't be sure, but I think that she's laughing.

Then I'm in the stairwell and I can see my friends and family no more. The Dauntless start running and us transfers have no choice but to keep up as people push and shove to get ahead.

"What the hell is going on?!" I hear someone shout, a transfer obviously.

I grip the railing tightly as I run, afraid of falling. I'm not afraid of heights, but I'm also not an idiot and I know that one wrong shove and I could be pitched over the railing.

I am breathing heavily by the time we reach the bottom and cross the lobby, bursting out the doors into the crisp autumn air. I try to stay graceful as we run through the streets, but that's kind of hard in these shoes. My ankle twists underneath me and I nearly fall, but I catch myself on the jacket of a Candor girl. She yelps and nearly falls back with me, but manages to steady herself.

"Sorry," I say, staring up at her.

She helps me right myself. "'S fine."

She runs off and after a second go after her. As the crowd nears the end of the street I realize that the Dauntless are beginning to climb the metal scaffolding to the tracks overhead. There's no ladder, after a moment of pause I begin to climb up one side, which is difficult in my heels and pencil skirt. I drag myself up to the platform finally and stand with everyone else.

The train rounds a bend and sounds its horn.

"Oh no," another Erudite transfer groans. "Are we supposed to jump on that thing?"

"Yes," says the Abnegation girl, still trying to catch her breath. But she smiles like this isn't totally insane.

The crowd stretches into a long line, the people at the front with only a few feet to go before the edge. There's no guardrail to keep us from going over the edge of the platform in case we trip, which is likely if everyone is as pushy as they were when we were running down the stairs.

Us transfers all stand near the back of the line with the older Dauntless near the front. We will learn by their example, and make it on by sheer luck.

The train whips past me and the Dauntless begin to run; the ones near the front with very little platform in front of them barely make it, throwing themselves through the door and scrambling inside. The Dauntless-born, who have been doing this all their lives have no trouble either. The last cars are obviously meant for the transfers because the front part is already past the end and the middle section is moving away quickly as well. Only now do I realize how few transfers there are, only fifty or so if even that. Though I guess Dauntless is the second smallest faction for a reason. The statistic is that like one in every five faction members across the city is a transfer. Erudite has no less than a hundred transfers every year so this is stunning to say the least.

This is the first test; every Dauntless that can walk can jump on the train, it's a part of who they are. I have never failed a test and I won't let this one be the exception.

I manage to grab the handle next to the door, but my feet are still on the ground and at this angle I'm having a hard time pulling myself in. As the end of the platform approaches I suddenly fee thel heel of my shoe come out from under me again. I fall but just as I do someone grabs me and pulls me in I look out the door to see the very end of the platform. I only barely made it.

I turn my attention back to the person that saved me; an Erudite boy, his brown hair blowing in the wind.

"Harder than it looks," he says with a chuckle.

"You should try it in heels."

"I'm Will," he says. "Will Erble."

"Mimette Malachite." As we introduce ourselves I realize that we're still holding on to each other. Me gripping the lapels of his jacket and him holding onto my arms.

He notices too and we very quickly let go of each other.

We sit together against the wall of the train near the door. I stare blankly at the other steel wall. I can't believe I left; I never thought I would leave before recently. As a kid I always thought that I would stay in Erudite forever; then Mark left and Minerva followed two years later and I wasn't sure. I have always looked up to my older siblings and I wondered how I could belong if they didn't. But then Michael and Melanie stayed and I was even less sure. Michael and Melanie always seemed to have it all figured out and I also wanted to have it all figured out, but by the time my fifteenth birthday rolled around and I had been basically an only child for four years, Erudite no longer felt like the obvious choice, like the only choice. I remember the day that the twins chose, today five years ago, I had been expecting them to leave too and trying to guess where that would be. I ruled out Abnegation immediately, they're both kind of vain, and eventually I came to the conclusion that they would split between Amity and Dauntless; I don't remember how I came to rule out Candor. My eleven-year-old brain had determined that Melanie would follow Mark to Amity and Michael would become Dauntless. I was very surprised when they stayed, but in hindsight it was obvious.

I wonder what my parent will do now that I'm gone, if they'll be together tonight or if they'll both be at work. It's a very busy time of year for them.

I can't believe I left. I can't believe I was brave enough to leave. I can't believe that I was crazy enough to leave.

I still love my family; I love them more than I could ever really say, but I do not think that I could have remained in Erudite forever. It's not an environment that suits everyone; even some of the smartest people absolutely cannot handle the way that Erudite demands your entire life and is generally a very competitive and hostile environment. Granted, the people that can survive tend to thrive but it does change them. I don't think that I could have stayed; I think that I would have been fine in the academics, but the competition would kill me. I'm not a malicious person; I can be competitive, but I am not capable of the sort of attitude it takes to secure first place. Eliza is though, and that doesn't make her a bad person it just makes her more Erudite then I will ever be.

But I don't think I am ever going to forget that I _am _Erudite. Part of me will always belong there and not just because it was where I was born. My brain is kind of Erudite and that's going to stick with me. I can't say how that will affect my life in Dauntless, but I would be stupid to think that it won't.

"They're jumping off!" someone yells, jarring me from my daze.

I stand up and risk sticking my head out the door to look ahead, gripping the train so tightly my knuckles turn white all the while. Sure enough, the Dauntless in the cars ahead of us are leaping from the train onto the roof of a brick building.

I grimace, leaning back inside the train. I don't know how I'm supposed to do this. I've never been afraid of heights, but that gap is at least five feet wide and I, like every sensible human being, am a little afraid of dying.

"Well that looks like fun and not at all life threatening," Will deadpans.

"It's like they're _trying _to kill us or something," I say.

"They might be."

"We have to jump off to then," says a Candor girl. She's much taller than I am and I would wager that she's stronger too.

"Great," a Candor boy with gelled black hair replies, "because that makes perfect sense, Molly. Leap off a train onto a roof."

"This is kind of what we signed up for, Peter," the girl points out.

"Well, I'm not doing it," says an Amity boy, he is the only transfer from Amity. He has tear tracks down his face and I cannot help but feel bad for him.

"You've got to or you'll fail," another Candor girl says. She's much smaller than Molly and very pretty. "It'll be alright."

"No, it won't! I'd rather be factionless than dead!" The Amity boy shakes his head. He sounds panicky. He keeps shaking his head and staring at the rooftop, which is getting closer by the second.

"What happens if we don't jump?" says a second Candor boy. There are a lot of transfers from Candor, almost all of us.

"What do you think, you'll be factionless." Peter says and he squeezes the other boy's shoulder as he walks away, "Good luck, Al."

I don't necessarily _want _to do this, this could easily kill me. But I don't have any other choice, unlike that Amity boy I would rather not be factionless than dead. I'm not that afraid of dying.

I back up to the far wall of the train after Peter and Molly jump. The rooftop is right in front of us now. I take off my heels so that I can get a good running start and before the reality of the situation can catch up with me, I jump.

I feel weightless for a moment, propelled through the air unbound by gravity. Then I crash into the gravel of the rooftop and I am reminded why I did not want to do this. I didn't hit my head, so that's good, but I tore my tights something awful. Before I can even stand up, Will lands next to me with a groan. He sits up, brushing the gravel from his jacket as I do with my arms. The tiny rocks stick in my skin but I don't appear to be bleeding, another small grace.

"Are you okay?" Will asks, he stands and then offers his hand to me.

"I'm fine, are you?"

"Yeah. That was…definitely something."

I nod as I turn away to look for my shoes. I find them a few feet in front of me and am only just sliding them back onto my feet when I hear a wail.

A Dauntless girl stands at the edge of the roof staring at the ground below, screaming. Behind her a Dauntless boy holds her at the waist to keep her from falling off.

"Rita," he says. "Rita, calm down. Rita—"

I do not have to look over the edge to know that someone didn't make it. I don't have to, but I do.

A girl just my age with bright purple hair lays broken on the concrete several stories below. Her limbs are twisted at strange angles and there's a growing pool of blood under her head. I feel ill just looking at her but can't bring myself to tear my eyes away. I am suddenly very aware of just how high up we are, and how I survived basically by luck alone. That girl – whoever she was – had grown up jumping on and off of trains. By all accounts, she should have made it and I shouldn't.

Without even sparing Rita a passing glance, I turn away and slip my heels back on. Then I cross the roof to focus on the older man standing on the opposite ledge like a girl didn't just die missing the other side.

"Listen up! My name is Max! I am one of the leaders of your new faction!" If I recall correctly, the Dauntless have five leaders but only two serve on the council and they tend to have more power than the other three. I recognize Max as the leader that the council acknowledges. He's relatively new to his position, only stepping into it two years ago after his predecessor died. That is the only detail I can remember about Max; even my parents and Jeanine barely speak of him and when they do it's with contempt for him and his faction. Something that I learned to just tune out over the years. For all that I like to pretend like my family is above catty Erudite snobbishness and gossip, I'm always inevitably reminded that their contempt for the other faction council members mostly stems from a contempt for the factions from which they hail.

Max looks much older in person than in the few photographs that I've seen in papers and magazines, stories about him or pictures from the Faction Galas. His age shows in the creases in his dark skin and the gray that streaks his closely cropped hair. He paces back and forth on the ledge, perfectly balanced. I can't imagine willingly balancing myself so precariously.

"Several stories below us is the member's entrance to our compound," he continues, "If you can't muster the will to jump off, you don't belong here. Our initiates will have the privilege of going first." He eyes us all with an unimpressed look on his face. After all of the Dauntless members step away, I realize just what a small crowd we are. We've already lost two transfers; one failed to jump on the train and the other never jumped off. With our small numbers the absences are positively glaring.

"You want us to jump off a ledge?" asks an Erudite girl shorter than me, her auburn curls adorned with a white bow that reminds me of Eliza.

"Yes," Max says, looking amused.

I roll my eyes; they just had us jump from a moving train onto the roof. Obviously, we have to get off the roof somehow.

"Is there water at the bottom or something?" Will asks.

"I guess you'll find out."

No one moves for a minute, everyone waiting to see who would step up first. I would, but I would rather see someone else survive it first.

"Someone's gotta go first," Max says, scanning the crowd. "Who's it gonna be?"

Finally, the lone Abnegation transfer speaks.

"Me," she says with more strength than I think I could manage in her situation.

Many people in the crowd snicker as she moves, but it does not seem to bother her. Max steps aside, allowing her to stand on the edge and get a good look at what she's about to jump into. She does not seem nervous in the slightest, she looks determined and brave; like Kira, like Casey, like everything that Dauntless wants us to be.

She stands there for a moment before taking off her jacket.

"Yeah, Stiff, take it off!" Peter calls and then says more quietly, "Put it back on."

She looks behind her at Peter and then balls up her jacket and throws it at him. It hits him in the chest and he glares at her. She doesn't waste another moment, jumps so quickly that one might have missed it if they blinked. She doesn't scream, I don't even hear her land.

"Alright," Max says. "Who's next."

Peter and the short Candor girl both move forward, but so do I. I step around the girl and shove Peter out of my way and into a Dauntless-born. I stand up on the ledge, looking down at the large hole in the concrete. I cannot see beneath it, there is only darkness. I take a deep breath and jump before I can reconsider.

I scream into my teeth all the way down, or at least until I strike something and the wind is knocked out of me. I bounce back up into the air before falling again and remaining this time. I've landed in a net made of thick rope and black mesh.

Underground.

The entire compound is underground. Now I understand why Kira really couldn't just sneak us in. There was no possible way for us not to get caught.

I lay there for a couple of seconds, staring up at the sky with a laugh bubbling up in my throat. The net is pulled and then I am pulled into a standing position on a wooden platform with stairs off to the side. At the bottom, the Abnegation girl is waiting for the rest of us.

The person that pulled me from the net is tall and rough looking. He has a frown set into his face as if he's never had a happy day in his life.

He rolls his eyes and then glances down. "Nice shoes."

I roll my eyes and cross my arms. "Thanks."

"You got a name, Ice Queen?"

I frown. "Call me Mi-…" I falter, the name that my parents gave me just doesn't sound right anymore. That's not me; I'm not who they thought I was or who they wanted me to be. I am no longer their perfect daughter, perhaps I never was.

"Oh, is that difficult? Thought the Erudite were supposed to be smart." He shakes his head. "Pick a new one if you want, but make it good, you don't pick again."

_Isn't that just the theme of the day _, I think and almost say but think better of it.

I need a name; I don't want to divorce myself from my family entirely. I'm still their daughter, their sister, their cousin; I'm still me.

'_ Mim _' doesn't sound right, it's too deeply personal. It's tied too closely with every other part of my life in Erudite because that's not just what my family called me, it's what my friends called me too.

But, I was called something else; something that was simultaneously more and less personal, something that I associate with one person only. '_ Mimi _' was only Jeanine's nickname for me, it's something that she's called me for as long as I can remember. We always had a kind of bond. I was a lot closer to her than my siblings were, we always spent a lot of time together and I really do care for her. She was like a second mother to me. And perhaps I should let the name that she gave me, the second name that I had, that was a testament to the genuine affection she held for me, be the name that I carry through Dauntless. It is a piece of my home, something that the world in unfamiliar with but the people who deep down I still care about are.

"Call me Mimi," I say. "Mimi Malachite."

Something in his face changes for a split second before it reverts back to that frown. "Alright. Second jumper, Mimi."


	7. Chapter 7: A Far Cry From Home

When all of the initiates stand on solid ground, we are led down a dark hallway by two older people. Not all of the transfers made it down, which Max seems very smug about; saying he knew that at least one of us wouldn't make it Behind me, I can still hear the noise of people hitting the net, the Dauntless members who rode with us from the Hub.

The people leading our crowd are the young man that pulled me from the net and an older looking woman with dark brown hair cut by a vibrant purple streak.

The tunnel is lit by lights in the ceiling placed every few feet and is made of rough gray stone. I remember enough from faction history class to know that the Dauntless compound is very old but, like all of the factions, has had to adapt to the changing times and change their compound to suit new needs. Some parts are visibly older than others and it seems this is one of those hallways. The stone walls are rough, but the floor has been worn smooth by feet passing over it for centuries now.

Will and I walk side by side, both of us sharing a look of wonder. Then the whole crowd stops and once and I come very close to bumping into Molly in front of me. Will starts slightly as the singular Abnegation transfer smacks into his back.

"This is where we divide," says the woman with the purple streak in her hair. "The Dauntless-born initiates are with me. I assume you don't need a tour of the place."

She turns away, the Dauntless-born ass following behind her and they disappear into the darkness of another hallway. Clumped together like this it is once again easy to see how small our class really is. Most of us are from Candor and Erudite, just a handful from Amity, and then there's the tiny Abnegation girl.

"Okay," says the man, "now that we've gotten that squared away let me introduce myself. Most of the time I work in the control room, but for the next few weeks, I am your instructor," he says. "My name is Four."

A short girl from Candor laughs. "Four? Like the number?"

"Exactly like the number."

I have to press my lips together to keep myself from laughing.

"What happened, one through three were taken?"

"No. Is there a problem?"

"No."

"Good. Now, if you follow me I'll show you the Pit, which someday you will learn to love. It-"

She laughs again. "The Pit? Clever name."

I don't laugh, though I want to, but I don't bother to hide my smile.

Four's frown deepens. He steps close to the girl, nearly having to put his chin against his chest to look down at her.

"What's your name?" he says quietly.

"Christina," she replies, all of her bravado leaving her voice.

Four doesn't respond for a second, just glares down at her before finally he hisses, "Well, Christina, if I wanted to put up with Candor smart-mouths, I would have joined their faction. The first lesson you will learn from me is to keep your mouth shut. Got that?"

She nods, looking uncomfortable. I would be in her position, but I am not afraid of Four. He's the least frightening thing I've had to face today.

Four turns and continues down the tunnel.

"What a jerk," I overhear Christina mutter to the Abnegation transfer.

"I guess he just doesn't like to be laughed at," she replies.

Christina could not be the first person to tease Four about his name and I'm sure that she won't be the last. Perhaps if he didn't want to be laughed at then he should have picked a less stupid name.

Four pushes open a set of double doors and we walk through from the dark hallways into a much wider and brighter space.

"Welcome to the Pit," Four says behind us. "Center of life here at Dauntless."

"Oh," Christina says quietly, "I get it."

'_ Pit _' really is the best word for what I'm looking at. Our crowd of initiates stands on the top level of a massive room with the bottom being five levels beneath us and above us is a skylight that lets in the evening sun. Above us I can see the shadows of apartment buildings, which must be where the Dauntless live. Inside the Pit, there are people absolutely everywhere. Different shops occupy most of the spaces along the wall and the bottom floor has stone tables and benches smattering it that remind me of the Commons. Someone notices us on the upper floor and gets the attention of others. Before I know it, a cheer has gone up across the crowd.

"Okay, that's enough of that," Four says. "If you'll follow me, I'll show you the Chasm."

He leads us away from the Pit down another set of winding hallways before we see the light of another open space. Really we hear the Chasm before we see it, hear the rush of water beating against stone. The Chasm is lit by a few dim white lights, but mostly by the massive skylight above. The lighting and the silence make the entire place seem otherworldly. He waves us forward. The Chasm has railings blocking the edges where the stone abruptly ends and a bride over the wide gap.

I grip the railing tightly and look down, seeing rushing white water beating against the stone walls and the stones in the river itself. The Chasm winds into darkness in both directions.

"The Chasm reminds us that there is a fine line between bravery and idiocy!" Four shouts above the roar of the water. "A daredevil jump off this ledge will end your life. It has happened before and it will happen again. You've been warned."

"This is amazing," Will says. "How do you figure they carved out the river? I mean, how did they even get the water down here, it's not exactly like we've got a bunch of stray rivers lying around."

He leans over the railing to get a better look and I stay with him, the same questions pressing my mind. I wonder how far it goes, where then ends are.

I glance up to see the last of our class receding down yet another tunnel.

"Will." I nudge him and nod in the direction of our disappearing fellow initiates.

"Oh, right." We both hurry off after them.

At the end of the last hallway we turn down is a single door, with two more doors on the right and left walls.

Four opens the door at the very end and it leads into a room with bunkbeds set up head to foot with each other. Underneath each of the bunkbeds are two laundry baskets and resting on top of every one of the sheets are identical black uniforms.

"You'll be sleeping in here for the next ten weeks."

"Girls or boys," says another Candor transfer. He has a mess of orange hair on his head and beady black eyes.

"Both," Four says.

A snicker runs through the crowd and I roll my eyes.

"Some ground rules," he says. "You have to be in the training room by eight o'clock every day. Training takes place every day from eight to six, with a break for lunch. You are free to do whatever you like after six. You will also get some time off between each stage of initiation. But, you are only permitted to leave the compound when accompanied by a Dauntless. You will notice that there are more beds than there are initiates. We anticipated that a higher proportion of you would make it this far."

There's enough floor space several more rows of beds could probably fit comfortably, there was probably a time when it did. Dauntless recruitment has been dwindling but I had no idea it was this bad. Four doesn't look at all surprised by the small number or transfers in the slightest.

"Bathrooms are on either side of the hallway," Four says. "You have fifteen minutes to change."

He leaves and people start claiming their beds. I take the bottom bunk against the far wall where I can see the entire room from my bed and then Will claims the bed above me after a brief questioning glance. Some people seem to be familiar with each other, talking as they change into the plain black outfits.

I remove my jacket and when I am quite sure that no one's looking, pull my journal from the inside pocket and shove it underneath the mattress.

My tights are totally in tatters from everything that I've done today and I notice a rip on the seam of my skirt too, probably from landing on the roof. The clothes they laid out for us seem to come in a one size fits most, because they certainly didn't measure us beforehand. I am very thankful for my mostly average figure because my pants, and jacket fit me just fine with the shoes only being a little too big and the shirt being only just tight enough to be uncomfortable and ride up when I move my arms.

Lots of my fellow initiates were not so lucky.

Peter, Will, and Erudite boy whose name I don't know make their shirts look like crop tops; Christina, Tris, and one of the Erudite girl whose name I don't know are all too small for their shirt, pants, or both; Molly, and two of the unnamed Candor boys are also too big for their clothes.

"What are we supposed to do?" Will says. "They can't expect us to go out like this."

"Maybe it's the next test," I say with a touch of humor. "Braving public humiliation.

"Says the girl whose clothes fit perfectly." He tries in vain to pull his shirt down over his stomach again.

I roll my eyes as I try to adjust my pants so they don't ride up so much to no avail.

No one attempts to go anywhere in their ridiculous outfits and fifteen minutes later, Four comes back.

He knocks first, "Everyone decent in there?"

"As decent as we're going to get," the ginger Candor says, looking miserably at his way too small shirt.

Four opens the door and stops dead, his eyes skimming over all of us.

"I see," he says. "Well, that might be a problem."

"Oh, you think so?" Christina deadpans, as she rolls up the legs of her pants.

"Wait here." He leaves quickly and we all wait around in tense silence.

A few minutes later he returns with several boxes labeled with different sizes.

"Alright," he says. "These are the boxes we pulled the uniforms from, so just pick your size and I'll be back in another fifteen."

"Why didn't he just do this the first time?" Christina wonders aloud.

No one responds besides a shrug or a noise of similar confusion. Finally, we all manage to change into a uniform that fits us. When Four comes back the next time we're all better off clothing wise.

"Okay," he says. "If you'll all follow me, we'll get rid of your old clothes."

He leads us down another series of winding hallways until we're back near the Pit again. We take a sharp left into a room that is empty except for a large metal basin with a fire burning inside of it. Four gestures us forward and one by one we throw our old clothes into the fire. I pause when it's my turn, not hesitating to throw my clothes into the fire but pausing to watch them burn. I feel no guilt, not for such a material attachment. I have a few pieces of home left, things that I won't ever let be taken from me. Four catches me by the shoulder as I walk away from the fire, he gestures toward my hair.

"Your clip," he says."

"Right." I reach around to the back of my head and take it from my hair, letting the sections it was holding back fall around my face. I toss it in the fire and it lands atop the other clothes with a soft thud.

"Better?"

"Fine." He lets me go and I move past him to wait with the others.

Some of the other initiates seem far more reluctant to let their old clothes go, looking almost sad for the first time since arriving as if this is the worst thing that we've had to do today.

When everybody's done we're led away back to the Pit. Four takes us up the stairs that connect the levels until we reach the third one where there are another set of double doors. He pushes them both open and we're led into another massive space filled with people. There are several rows of bench like tables with more circular ones near the back and sides. On every table are trays stacked high with food, the scent filling the room. Like in the Pit, there are people absolutely everywhere talking and laughing loudly, making the room a sea of voices with no one discernable conversation. It is both exciting and incredibly intimidating. I know that I've always said that the Dauntless don't know how to act, and usually this behavior is exactly what I'm referring to, but now it seems less out of place than it did in the school cafeteria. With everyone doing the same thing it just seems natural, everyone seems so happy. Like a much louder Amity.

Most of the Dauntless members have already claimed the bench tables, so us initiates shuffle toward the back, breaking up to each find our own tables. I look around for Will, and then for an empty seat when I can't find him. What I find is an entire table of nine or so chairs occupied only by the Abnegation transfer, Christina, and Four. I approach them hesitantly, not knowing the two girls and already not really liking Four but there isn't an empty table for me to claim and I don't want to just be wandering around.

"Pardon me," I say. "May I sit here?"

"Go for it," Christina says, nodding toward the chair next to her. "I'm Christina, you?"

"Mimi Malachite."

Christina gives me a curious look, but nods. "That's Tris."

"It's very nice to meet you both."

"Malachite," Tris repeats. "Hey, didn't we meet this morning." She's got her hair down now, it fluffs out over her shoulders and down her back and she seems to be almost hiding within it.

_Oh how could I forget? _Instead of saying that, I nod. "Beatrice?"

"It's Tris," she says. "Mimette?"

"Just Mimi."

We don't talk about the part where her father has a bitter rivalry with my mother and Jeanine. That should make Visiting Day interesting.

"You two already know each other?" Christina says.

I shake my head, "Hardly. We met through, just sort of a...formality."

I am not sure how comfortable Tris is with me telling people that she's Andrew Prior's daughter.

"That was...really awkward," Tris says.

I laugh. _And who's fault is that? _I think. But I know that she's also referring to the palpable tension before she spoke

"Terribly so," I agree.

We leave the conversation at that. No one else needs to know the details of the exchange; we probably shouldn't even be talking about it, it happened before we were ever Dauntless and that's probably some sort of taboo.

Instead, Tris goes back to poking at her burger with curiosity.

"It's beef," Four says. "Put this on it." He slides her a bowl of ketchup and Tris takes it hesitantly. It's hard to believe that she jumped off a building without hesitation, but is put off by a hamburger.

"You've never had a hamburger before?" Christina says, pausing mid-bite to stare at her with wide eyes.

"No," Tris says. "Is that what it's called?"

"Stiffs eat plain food," Four says.

"Why?" Christina asks, looking as curious as any Erudite I've ever seen. I guess that Candor don't make it their business to know other faction's customs. I guess that does explain a lot.

Tris shrugs, "Extravagance is considered unnecessary."

Christina smirks. "No wonder you left."

Tris rolls her eyes. "Yeah, it was totally just because of the food."

The conversation doesn't continue because the doors opening again brings a hush over the room. Even the rowdiest Dauntless quiet down and turn their attention to the man that just entered. He doesn't seem very much older than us either, about Four's age, but he's also quite intense looking. His bleach blonde hair is slicked back, or it's really greasy, or both. By the looks of him it's probably both. He has multiple piercings in his face that glint in the light and a smirk on his face. His cold black eyes sweep across the room before they finally settle on our table and he begins walking toward us more quickly.

"Who's that?" Christina hisses as he approaches.

"That's Eric," Four says. "He's the Dauntless representative."

"Seriously?! But he's so young?"

"Isn't the Candor representative like twenty-three?" I point out like I don't know.

"Yeah, but he's like our age?"

"Two years older," Four corrects her. "And age doesn't matter in Dauntless."

Just as he finishes his sentence, Eric drops down into the seat beside Four. He offers no greeting and neither do we. Slowly, the room begins to return to its regular noise level.

After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence Eric says, "Well, are you going to introduce me?"

"Tris, Mimi, Christina," Four says, gesturing lazily to each of us as if we've suddenly become a nuisance.

He looks carefully as each of us, pausing for another second longer on me.

"Have we met before?"

"I doubt it."

"You look familiar," he says, his brow furrowing like he doesn't belive me.

I shrug and hum in acknowledgement.

He shrugs apathetically and turns his attention to Tris, his smirk growing much wider.

"A Stiff," he says. "We'll see how long you last here."

Tris offers no response, simply takes another bite of her burger and looks away.

He says nothing to Christina, seeming far more interested in Four. "What have you been doing lately, Four?"

Four shrugs. "Nothing really."

I look between them, wondering if they're friends. Everything that Eric has done so far suggests that they are. But Four's body language shows the opposite. If Eric thinks they're friends, Four is too polite to correct him. However, that doesn't sound exactly right. As far as I can tell, polite and Four don't exactly seem like they go together.

"Max tells me he keeps trying to meet with you, and you don't show up," Eric says, "He requested that I find out what's going on with you."

Four stares at Eric blankly for a few seconds before saying, "Tell him that I am satisfied with the position I currently hold."

"So he wants to give you a job."

Perhaps Eric views Four as a potential threat to his position. I don't see why he would; although, I guess that competition isn't quite so impressive as in Erudite. Those vying for leadership are probably chosen based on brawn alone.

"So it would seem."

"And you're not interested?" Eric raises his eyebrows.

"I haven't been interested for two years."

"Well," Eric claps him on the shoulder as he stands. "let's hope he gets the message then."

"So...you two are friends?" Tris says once Eric is out of an earshot.

"We were in the same initiate class," Four says. "He transferred from Erudite."

"Can't help but notice that that's not an answer," I drawl and then remember who I'm talking to as soon as the words have left my mouth.

Four glares at me. "Not every question requires an answer, Ice Queen."

"If you don't want people to ask follow up questions, then perhaps you should try answering the question the first time."

"Were you a transfer too?" Tris asks, shifting the subject.

"I thought I was only going to have problems with the Candor asking questions and sassing me," he says coldly. "Now I've got Stiffs and stuck up Erudites too?"

"It must be because you're so approachable," Tris says flatly before I can speak. "You know, like a bed of nails."

He stares at Tris and she stares back, suddenly emboldened. Or perhaps this is just how she always is, as her comment at the Choosing Ceremony suggests.

"Careful, Tris," he says and stands up. "And watch your mouth, Ice Queen."

Christina looks between us, her eyebrows practically in her hairline. "You two…"

I shrug. "I'm not afraid of him. He's just some eighteen-year-old with an attitude problem, that's nothing."

"Regardless." She waves away me comment. "You two, especially you," she points at Tris, "have a death wish."

I have dealt with people much worse than Four. He's just posturing; all of his brooding and frowning is just hiding some sort of weakness, that's usually how it goes with those types. I don't care if he's my instructor, he's also an asshole.

After dinner we only have an hour before lights out, which is literally just Four poking his head in the door and telling us to go to sleep before flicking off the lights. He told us that we've got a long day ahead of us. After all of the running and jumping that we've done today I can't imagine what they'll throw at us next.

Jumping off an even higher roof, maybe?

I've never had to sleep in a room with other people aside from sleepovers with my friends, let alone so many of them. I hear at least three people snoring and two people crying and that is making it very difficult to fall asleep.

When I chose Dauntless I really didn't have any idea what I was getting into. I still don't have any idea what I'm getting into, but that's incredibly thrilling. Despite everything, all of the difficulty that we've already faced, the fact that we've already lost three initiates and one of them to death, and my total jerk of an instructor, I'm having fun. I like it here; I very sincerely do and I will not regret my choice. I won't allow myself to second guess or consider what might have been. This might not be everything that I've always wanted, as so many refer to their experience joining a faction, but it is something that I want now. The thing about Dauntless that's always drawn me to it is that they've always been so happy; they make all of the things they do look easy, look fun, look like the time of your goddamn life. And maybe it's not as easy as it looks, maybe it's much harder. But I refuse to believe that that makes it any less fun. I didn't join Dauntless for power, notoriety, and glamour; if that was what I wanted I would have been Erudite. I joined Dauntless for the lifestyle, the quick pace, the thrill of adventure, the bond that everyone seemed to share. When I joined Dauntless I literally sold my life to a dream; I don't actually know if any of that is the reality of Dauntless, but I want it to be. I want to become the embodiment of the wonder that I felt when I watched the Dauntless; I want to inspire people like me. I want to see Dauntless whole again, bursting with life. I never saw it as it was in its heyday; I hardly even hear about it. But I know that is what Gwendolyn grew up around. That was her life for so many years; I know her well enough to know why she left, know that she wanted more for herself than just an adventure. I'm never going to be like Gwendolyn or Kira, born in one faction but so clearly meant for another. I fit well in Erudite, I could have been happy there, part of me will always belong there, but in the end that wasn't what I wanted. I loved Erudite; I did, but I don't regret leaving and I doubt I ever will. What I think I will regret in time will be leaving my friends and family behind. They were so much of why I wanted to stay in Erudite; they would have been what kept me alive through the living hell that I've heard initiation is. I was old enough when the twins joined Erudite to remember what they said about it, what they experienced. They never sugarcoated the way that sometimes it felt like one was fighting just to survive. Eliza and Kira will endure and survive it; Eliza might even come out at the top of it, but it is not something I would ever want to bear alone.

Dauntless will be hard; I won't pretend that it won't be. I might even be the most difficult thing I ever do. Everything from choosing to be here in the first place to going through initiation will challenge everything that I know. I have been brought up with Erudite mannerisms that I will have to drop if I want to survive in Dauntless, if I want to avoid discovery. I can never let on that I belong in more place than one, that I am not entirely Dauntless. I will devote myself to it without hesitation; but according to the way that my brain is wired, I can never be totally and completely Dauntless.

The Abnegation are trained from early childhood in the art of forgetting yourself and I think, and no one can ever know this, I think that it might behoove me to take a page out of their book. I have to forget about who I was, that no longer matters; piece by piece I will have to deconstruct every part of me that was Erudite and rebuild myself in the Dauntless mode. That is the only way that I will avoid discovery.

I don't know how; but that's what initiation is supposed to teach me and I'm a pretty fast learner I can adapt and I will. I will be whatever they want me to be to fit in with them, to avoid discovery, but also to the Dauntless that I so desperately want to be, the Dauntless that I left Erudite to become. I may not quite be there, but absolutely nothing is going to deter me from this.

I've made my choice and now I have to stick with it.


	8. Chapter 8: Training Daze

I wake to the sound of metal hitting metal and the moment I open my eyes they are assaulted by the rooms bright fluorescent light. I groan and roll over wishing I could fall asleep again. It's too early; I don't care what time it is, it's too early. And judging by the sound of others being woken by the noise, my fellow initiates agree with me.

I've always been an early riser; but that was before I was jumping off roofs and whatever. I'm sure that I'll grow used to this in time; but that time has not come to pass yet.

"Everyone up!" Four yells. "Be in the Pit in ten."

The door slams, announcing his departure. After a moment, we all slowly begin to wake up. I sit up and run my fingers through my hair to clear it from my face. My eyes slowly adjust to the bright light.

"And we thought yesterday was bad," Will says through his yawn.

Yesterday morning I woke up in the bedroom that I'd had for sixteen years in a comfortable bed with a soft comforter. Today I woke up in a room with nine other people I barely know, it's cold, and I'm exhausted. Before I can get up or even get my legs out of bed, Will drops down from the bunk above me and I swallow a shriek. Not well enough apparently as he glances at me and notices my look of astonishment; he laughs to himself and then starts shuffling through the crowd to get to the bathroom. I stretch again only for my hands to slam against the wooden bottom of the bed above me. I groan in pain and take one more minute to collect myself. I realize that my phone is probably still on my bed where I left it. I won't ever get it back. I don't know why that bothers me, it shouldn't; I would have had to get rid of it anyways. But the thought nags at me as I get ready for my first day of training. I pull my hair back to keep it away from my face and stare at my reflection in the mirror. I look very plain, and the light is washing me out. I'm good looking but I always look a little better with makeup; a little less tired, a little more striking.

Tris stands next to be at the row of sinks, keeping her head down and avoiding her reflection as I mess with my hair some more.

"How can you stand to look at yourself all the time. Isn't it…I don't know…weird?"

I shrug. "No. I think that's just an Abnegation thing."

She frowns. "Right."

The running water stops and after a few more minutes, Christina steps out and joins us.

"You know," she says, "I've always wanted to try makeup. Like, it's always seemed really interesting to me."

"Does Candor not allow makeup?" Tris asks.

"Not at all. Something about not being dishonest about our appearances or whatever. Honestly I think it's kind of bullshit, just let people look the way they want to, you know?"

Tris and I both nod. Tris leans forward slightly, staring intently at her reflection. Then she shakes her head and turns away.

"Come on," she says, "we should be getting to the Pit."

The center floor of the Pit is mostly empty this morning, probably cleared out specifically for initiation. On the upper floors, a few curious Dauntless watch us. The Dauntless-born are already there when Tris, Christina, and I arrive and our fellow transfers have either beat us here or are right on our heels.

"That looks like everyone," says the woman who led the Dauntless-born away yesterday. "Alright," the sound of her voice silences all of the initiates that were talking. "Welcome to your first day of initiation; my name is Lauren, to the right of me is Four," she gestures to him and the points off to the far corner. "and over there is Eric. Four and I are your instructors and Eric, as most of you should know, is a Dauntless leader. We three will be overseeing your training."

"There are two stages of training," Four picks up where she left off, "the first is physical, push your bodies to the breaking point and master the methods of combat." He paces back and forth in front of us. "The second is mental, again breaking point. You'll face your worst fears and conquer them, unless they get you first. Transfers will be trained separately from the Dauntless-born, but in the end you'll all be ranked together. After initiation, rankings will determine what jobs you move into; leadership, guarding the fence, working in the city, or working in the pit. The stages are not weighed equally in determining your final rank; so it is possible, though very difficult, to drastically improve your rank over time. We believe that preparation eradicates cowardice, which we define as the failure to act in the midst of fear, therefore each stage of initiation is intended to prepare you in a different way."

"The rankings will also determine who gets cut," Eric adds.

"Cut?" Christina repeats with a frown.

Eric's smirk widens. "At the end of each stage the lowest ranking initiates will be leaving us."

"To do what?" says one of the boys I haven't met yet.

Eric shrugs, "There's no going home to you families so you'd live factionless. Only the top one hundred initiates will be made members."

I'm surprised; cutting initiates does seem rather counterintuitive what with Dauntless' dwindling numbers. One would think that they'd take whatever they could get. People get cut in Erudite's initiation, that's how it's always been; but Erudite is also one of the largest factions in the city, they can afford to cut people and they do. They get a hundred or two transfers every year, but I would wager that a fourth of them don't make it past stage one and a third don't make it past stage two. Some Erudite-born fare no better, thinking that they'd have the advantage and slipping up; making stupid mistakes that eventually lead to them being overtaken by the more intelligent transfers. Even with all of that, I've never seen an Erudite initiate class graduate with less than a hundred and fifty people.

Will is the first to speak after the surprising news that our place in Dauntless is not guaranteed. "Why didn't we know that?"

Eric shrugs nonchalantly. "It's a new rule."

"A new rule?" Christina frowns. "Somebody should've told us that."

"Why? Would you have chosen differently? Out of fear, because if that's the case you might as well get out now. If you're really one of us it won't matter that you might fail. You chose us, now we get to choose you."

That's the thing about transferring factions; you never really know what you're getting yourself into and Dauntless has just been surprise after surprise and none of them especially good. But I still want this. I did not join Dauntless for its ease and I would expect nothing less from a faction whose primary mode of transportation is jumping on and off of a moving train. Still, only twenty of us? There are a little over twenty Dauntless-born by my estimate and they've had a lifetime to prepare themselves. Those are some steep odds; but I know that they do not necessarily have the advantage over us. They may right now, but people do tend to become careless when they think that their winning.

After that _warm_ welcome from our _absolutely lovely_ faction rep, Four takes our small group of transfers into a large gym. A track wraps around the perimeter; there is a line of punching bags set up between a set of pillars and a set of targets toward the far end of the room.

"Everyone take a lap and we'll start when you're all finished," Four says.

I try my best to stay with the pack; Peter and one of the Erudite boys get into a bit of a race, leaving the rest of us in the dust. Tris is pretty fast, keeping ahead of most of us but still unable to catch up to Peter and the other guy.

"You're pretty quick when you're not tripping over yourself," Will says, snickering.

"You'd be astonished at the difference a pair of shoes can make," I say with a roll of my eyes.

Christina turns to look at me, her eyes widening. "Hey, you're that girl who tripped on me on the way to the train."

"You what?" Will says.

I glance away, an embarrassed flush in my cheeks. "It was nothing. I just lost my footing."

"She tripped and grabbed my jacket to keep herself upright, nearly dragged me down with her."

"Do you hang onto the jacket of everyone you meet?" Will raises his eyebrow.

I roll my eyes. "Please, I tripped and caught myself. It wasn't even especially funny."

"Mm, I'm pretty sure that it might have been."

"Hey, if you want to try running in four-inch heels then be my guest. I bet you couldn't cover half the distance I did before falling on your face. Not to mention the fact that I jumped on a moving train without taking them off."

Will scoffs, "I don't really think that it counts as jumping on if I pull you up."

"Don't be so nitpicky."

Christina chuckles, "Do you two always bicker like this?"

"Funnily enough, we just met," Will says. "I've never seen her before yesterday?

"But you came from the same faction."

"Erudite is a faction of more than eighty thousand people," I say. "Are you telling me that you know all the Candor transfers?"

"Some of them. I had math with Al," she nods her head in the direction of one of the heavy-set boys toward the back, "and I've known Peter and his cronies since we were kids. And yes, he has always been that much of a jerk."

We run in silence for the rest of the time, sticking near each other but not speaking. When everyone has finished and some are trying to catch their breath, Four waves us over to the targets at the other end of the room.

"Line up," he says.

As we line up, he scoops up an armful of guns and passes them out as he talks.

"The first thing you will learn today is how to shoot a gun. The second thing is how to win a fight." Four hands me the gun and I hold it very gingerly. I've never handled one before; messed around with Melanie's knives a little bit, sure, but never a gun.

"Thankfully, if you're here, you already know how to get on and off a moving train, so I don't need to teach you that."

Tris stares down at hers nervously, holding it away from her as if it might explode in her hand. But the Abnegation are pacifists by nature, so I guess I understand where her apprehension comes from.

"But what…" Peter yawns through his words. "What does firing a gun have to do with…bravery?"

Four flips the gun he was about to hand to one of the initiates over in his hands and presses the barrel to Peter's forehead. Peter freezes with his mouth open, his eyes wide and the yawn dead in his mouth.

"Wake. Up," he snaps. "You are holding a loaded gun, you idiot. Act like it."

There's a very long moment of tension where everyone is watching the two of them and neither move. The Four takes the gun away from Peter's head. Once the immediate threat is gone, Peter glowers at him, his cheeks reddening too. Any sense of lightheartedness, enthusiasm, the notion that this might just be a little bit fun evaporates from the room and all that is left is the lingering tension and the knowledge that at any point our initiation instructor may threaten to kill any one of us. And I'm sure that no one, not even Peter or Christina or me, are willing to see if he'll go through with it.

"And to answer your question…you are far less likely to soil your pants and cry for your mother if you're prepared to defend yourself." Four stops walking at the end of the row and turns on his heel. "This is also information you may need later in stage one. So, watch me."

He faces the target in the center of the row; stands with his feet apart, holds the gun in both hands and fires. Then fires three more times. Each time he does, Tris and Al flinch. When he's done we all lean forward to get a better look at the target; every shot went through the center in very nearly the same place.

"Begin."

We all move toward our respective targets and attempt to copy Four's stance. The room is soon filled with the sound of gunfire; it didn't bother me at first, but that noise times nine other people gets pretty loud. I aim for the target as best I can, though I focus more on trying to get used to the recoil and the feel of my gun before going for accuracy. After what feels like an eternity, one of my bullets embeds in the bottom of the target. I keep trying for slightly better results, making minute corrections and approaching this as I would any lesson; break it down into manageable parts and pieces. Four paces behind us, not saying much though making corrections when he needs to.

"You know," I hear Will say to Tris further down the row, "statistically speaking, you should have hit the target at least once by now, even by accident."

I don't hear her response and I don't try to, I focus only on the target and let everything else become background noise.

"Aim higher, Ice Queen," Four says as he passes by, breaking my focus.

"Mimi," I correct him with my irritation bleeding into my voice.

I hear his footsteps stop. "What?"

I look behind me, he hasn't turned but he looks over his shoulder, his eyes narrowed.

"My name is Mimi, should be easy enough to remember. It's only two syllables and we're not exactly a big class, yeah?"

Pretty much everyone has stopped shooting now to watch our exchange. Four glares me down, waiting for me to fold and apologize. Thing is, I'm still not scared of him; I refuse to be.

"Ice Queen's going to get her ass kicked," I hear Peter mutter.

He sighs through his nose. "I'll learn your name when it's worth my time." He looks away from me, turning his attention to everyone else. "Well? What are you all looking at, keep shooting."

It takes me another ten minutes before I hit the target and when we break for lunch I still feel like I could use some practice. These aren't skills that people gain overnight. But my arms are tired from holding that position for so long and I am glad for the break.

Despite our jerk instructor, I am still really excited about initiation. I like to learn new things and being Dauntless means acquiring an entirely new skill set. I still really want this, and I want to be good at this. Now that I know that initiates are ranked, I know my goal; I know what I want to aim for besides just blending in. I want to be the best; I want to be at the top. I don't really like to think of myself at someone who fails, and I certainly won't fail at this. But being the best and failing are two very different things; and just looking at some of my fellow initiates I can see that I've got some stiff competition. Peter may be a jerk, but he seems like a pretty physically fit guy and that will play to his advantage in the first stage. Many of us are behind, even farther behind the Dauntless-born and at the end we'll be ranked together. If I could just see what I'm up against that would make this so much easier. But I guess that this was never supposed to be easy.

I'm not too concerned right now, I'll have the next ten weeks to worry about all of this and I haven't even really seen what anyone can do yet. All of this is purely speculation.

I sit with Christina and Tris again, and Christina invites that boy from her math class along, Al.

"Oh, come on. You don't remember me?" Christina asks Al. "We were in math together just a few days ago. And I am not a quiet person."

"I slept through Math most of the time," Al replies. "It was first hour!"

Al seems nice enough, I mean I guess. He still seems very unsure about this, but I guess we all are and some of us are just better at hiding it.

I don't say much, feeling slightly out of place with these two who came from the same faction and have so much to talk about. I know that I can't make friends if I don't talk to anyone, but I'm not like they are and I'm very acutely aware of it. I don't know how to act so easy going, so much of me is still the restrained Erudite girl with three friends, perfect grades, and an unyielding sense of dissatisfaction. I loved Kira, Casey, and Eliza so much and I miss them so terribly; I wish that they could be here with me, I think that that would really be a sight to see. Casey's kind of a pacifist, but I think that she would grow to love the reckless thrill and the constant energy. Eliza is Erudite and that is all she will ever be, it is where she belongs, but I think that she could make it in Dauntless too. But they're all off doing their own things, living their own lives. I wonder if they miss me; I wonder how long it will take them to forget about our friendship.

"Tris." Christina snaps her fingers in front of Tris' face, who was staring off into space even more than I was. "You in there?"

"What?" She looks up from her food with a start. "What is it?"

"I asked if you ever remembered taking a class with me. I mean, no offense, but I probably wouldn't remember if you did. All the Abnegation looked the same to me. I mean, they still do, but now you're not one of them."

Tris stares blankly back at her.

"Sorry, am I being rude?" Christina asks. "I'm used to just saying whatever is on my mind. Mom used to say that politeness is deception in pretty packaging."

I am well aware of Candor's whole philosophy on that; it's why I generally avoided them most of the time. My sister is Candor and I love her, but that doesn't mean I have to love her faction.

"I think that's why our factions don't usually associate with each other," Tris says with a short laugh.

Candor and Abnegation generally ignore each other; Candor's real beef lies with Amity because they want to seek peace above all else even if it means lying to achieve it. Mark and Minerva still get along pretty well, but I think that's because they refuse to acknowledge that anything ever changed. The more things change the more they stay the same with those two; it seems like no matter how they present themselves otherwise, anytime they're around each other they revert back into the close brother-sister duo that I've always known them as. I can't even say for sure what sort of person they are inside of their faction because when they're around me they're the same as I've always known them to be.

"Can I sit here?" Will interrupts the conversation, tapping his fingers on the table.

"You not interested in sitting with the other Erudite?" Al asks.

Will deadpans, "I have never met any of them before in my life. But I do know Mimi...sort of."

"We just met," I say. "But, uh, yeah go ahead and sit. Right guys?"

He sits down next to me. "Besides, just because we were in the same faction before doesn't mean we like each other, right Christina?"

She rolls her eyes, "Don't get me started."

"I knew them before," he tips his head in the direction of the couple sitting alone at the table two down from ours. The boy is tall and blonde with broad shoulders and a crooked smile, the girl that leans against him is tiny with shiny red curls. "Edward and Myra. Honestly, Edward was kind of a dick." The couple shares a kiss and Tris pulls a face.

"Do they have to be so public about it?"

"She just kissed him," Al says with a frown. "It's not like they're stripping naked."

Tris shakes her head, "Kissing is not something that you do in public."

All four of us share a look that we then turn on Tris.

"What?" she asks, noticing our expressions.

Christina is the first to laugh. "Your Abnegation is showing. The rest of us are all right with a little affection in public."

"Oh." She shrugs. "I guess I'll just have to get over it then."

"Or you can stay frigid," Will says with a smirk. "You know, if you want."

Christina makes an annoyed noise and throws her roll at him. He catches it and takes a bite.

"Thanks," he says with a full mouth.

I grimace at him slightly, thinking that he won't notice but he does.

He swallows and says. "Aw, what's with the look, Mimi?"

"That was...unseemly."

He rolls his eyes, "You're _so_ uppity."

"I am not. I'm just...polite."

"Ah yes, that stiff and proper Erudite born and bred propriety"

"If my propriety is Erudite-born then where's yours?"

"See, this is what we missed out on not being born Erudite," Al says with a laugh.

A strange look crosses Tris' face for a moment, not long enough for anyone to notice but me.

"Don't be mean to each other you two," Christina says, "and don't be mean to Tris either. Frigidity is in her nature just like being uptight is in Mimi's and being a know-it-all is in Will's."

"I am not frigid!" Tris exclaims.

"I am not uptight," I say at the same time.

We share a look and I laugh at the embarrassed flush in Tris' cheeks and after a moment she joins in and so do the others.

After lunch, Four leads us back to the room we were in before but now the mats that were folded up have been unfolded and attached to one of the pillars is a large chalkboard.

I haven't ever seen one up close before. I know that some factions like Abnegation use them in teaching lower levels, but in Erudite we just had interactive screens for that purpose. Surely Erudite could provide the proper equipment if they were to ask for it, that is their job as a faction, but I suppose that Dauntless just prioritizes training over tech. That's something new too.

On the board our names are written in alphabetical order.

"Pick a punching bag and stand by it," Four says.

My friends and I take five right next to each other, I stand at the one in between Will and Tris. Four stands in the middle of the line so that we can all see him.

"As I said this morning," he says, "next you will learn how to fight. The purpose of this is to prepare you to act; to prepare your body to respond to threats and challenges, which you will need, if you intend to survive life as a Dauntless."

My sister picked up hand to hand combat when she was a little younger than me as a form of exercise. She absolutely loved it and got really, really good at it too. She would kind of show me a few things, just little stances and the like. I don't know if she still practices, but I think she would be really happy to see me taking it up now. I never practiced it much, it never even crossed my mind to look into it when I got to be around the age that she started, maybe I should have. But I'm learning now and that's what matters.

"We'll go over technique and then on Monday you'll start fighting each other. So I recommend that you pay attention, those that don't learn fast will get hurt."

Today is Sunday, which means that we have six days to get the hang of this in theory. Luckily, learning fast is my specialty. I might not be the strongest person around and I might not know a lot right now, but my advantage is that I'm very adaptable. And if I have to, I'm more than willing to put in extra practice so that I win my first fight.

Four names a few different punches and demonstrates them first against the air and then against the punching bag. He says that we'll start learning kicks on Wednesday, but that's not as important.

I catch on as we practice, slowly, but I start to understand the movements a little more. The tough fabric of the punching bag stings against my skin and the movements feel awkward, but I begin to figure out what I'm supposed to be doing. The others are in similar boats, with the glaring exception of Edward who is getting this really fast. I shake my head, turning my attention away from the others and back to the punching bag. I know that I can get this if I just keep working at it. Practice doesn't make perfect, god knows I've never been that, but it does make better and this is just another skill to add to my repertoire. It's not that different than learning math; a set of techniques and variables that can be practiced and memorized. Only instead of numbers I'm working with my fists.

Four weaves through the bags correcting stance and technique.

"Hey," I stop him when he gets to me, "will you show me how to hold myself when I punch with my left, I'm not sure if I'm doing it right."

His eyebrows knit together but he smirks like he's amused. "An Erudite admitting she doesn't know something."

I shrug, "I'm not Erudite, I'm Dauntless now; and it's like you said, I have to know this to survive here. So will you demonstrate it for me?"

"You're not Dauntless yet. You're not anything right now." He pushes off the pillar he was leaning against. "Move."

I step out of his way and watch his demonstration carefully.

"Now show me what I just did." He steps away and I stand in front of the punching bag again, mimicking his movement as best I can.

"You're right," he says. "You are doing it wrong. Hold yourself straighter and try not to be so floppy when you move."

I try again, tensing as I move and trying to summon the same strength that I'm able to put behind my right arm.

He taps his fingers against his chin. "Better. Keep working at it." He walks away to critique the others.

That's the best interaction we've had yet; the closest to pleasant that he's ever bothered to be.

I keep working at that one punch until we're dismissed for dinner. I still don't feel like I get it, but I'll just have to keep working at it. I still don't like Four, but he seems to be at least a half decent teacher when he's not threatening us.

"I'm surprised he didn't break you in half," Christina says to Tris in reference to Four showing her a punch earlier and rather than demonstrating, moving her into the right position himself. "He scares the hell out of me with that quiet voice he uses."

"Yeah. He's…" Tris looks back toward the training room. "…definitely intimidating."

"You didn't seem too scared," Will says.

She shrugs, "I mean he can't really hurt us, right? He's responsible for us as our instructor and whatever."

"I wouldn't count on it," Christina says. "He certainly doesn't seem like the kind of person with scruples over hurting one of us."

"Yeah," Al agrees. "I thought he was going to skin Mimi alive this morning." He whirls on me. "Why would you do something like that after he _just_ put a gun to Peter's head."

I shrug, "Eh, he doesn't scare me much. It didn't really occur to me not to correct him. And frankly," I chuckle, "I've seen a whole lot worse."

"What do you mean he doesn't scare you, the guy looks like he could bash our skulls in!" Al says, putting his hands in his hair as if to protect his head.

"He's just kind of annoying. I mean, we get it; he's intimidating. He doesn't have to be such a jackass."

"He was just telling her to watch her mouth the other night," Christina says.

"Yeah, that's never worked on me before and I see no reason for it to start working now."

Al shakes his head. "You and Tris are both nuts."

I grin at Tris. "Maybe."

"Maybe." She returns my smile.

Al laces his hands together behind his head and stares up at the stone ceiling. "I think I want a tattoo."

"A tattoo of what?" Will asks.

"I don't know." He laughs. "I just want to feel like I've actually left the old faction. Stop crying about it." None of us say anything about how we heard him last night. He shakes his head, "You guys don't have to be polite about it, I know you heard me."

"Yeah, learn to quiet down." Christina pokes Al's arm jokingly. "I think you're right. We're half in, half out right now. If we want all the way in, we should look the part."

I think of what Four said to me earlier, '_You're not Dauntless yet. You're not anything right now_' and as much as I hate to admit it, he's right. None of us look like it, we certainly don't act like it. Everyone can tell just by looking at us that we're transfers, which is all that we are right now. The Dauntless can probably even tell where we came from. The volume of Al and Christina's voices, the stiff posture and measured steps that Will and I share, and how Tris seems demure and delicate when she's not talking. Although anyone who speaks to her can plainly see that that isn't the truth. Tris is bold, and brash, and Dauntless, so obviously meant for this place.

Christina gives Tris a look, wiggling her eyebrows and a smirk slowly spreading across her face.

"No," Tris says. "I will not cut my hair, or dye it a strange color, or pierce my face."

"How about your bellybutton," Christina suggests jokingly.

Will snorts, "Or your nipple."

Tris groans, burying her face in her hands as the rest of us laugh.

The Pit is swarming with people, the evening light shining down through the skylight and painting the whole place in hues of bright orange. I still haven't completely gotten used to being underground all the time, to hardly seeing the sun. I have never been claustrophobic, but sometimes all the stone and the darkness give me moments where I feel like I'm suffocating as I wonder how they get air down here.

We find a directory attached to a balcony, to our left is the tattoo parlor and to the left is a series of clothing shops.

"Well," I say, "as _appealing_ as getting a tattoo sounds," it doesn't sound that appealing actually, "I need clothes."

"So do I," Christina says as she seizes Tris' arm. "And so does Tris. We'll meet you boys in fifteen, or twenty."

"Or next year," Al says with a laugh.

Christina elbows him in the ribs quickly and then the three of us break away from them.

"What's wrong with the clothes I have?" Tris says. "I'm not wearing gray anymore."

"They're ugly," Christina says plainly. "You can do better than what fashionless

Four can provide for us."

"Fashionless Four, I like that," I say with a laugh.

"You two are mean," Tris says, rolling her eyes.

"Will you just let us help you make you look good," Christina says, pressing her hands together in a pleading gesture. "If you don't like what Mimi and I put you in then you never have to wear it again."

"Yeah, fine I guess," Tris says with a sigh and another eye roll.

Fifteen minutes later we're all out of the clothes we were given and dressed in ones we picked out for ourselves; or in Tris' case, clothes that we picked for her. I wear a long sleeved black shirt that clings to my skin and hangs off my shoulders with tight pants and sneakers of the same color. Christina, Tris, and I all managed to come to an agreement on a modest, knee length dress for Tris. If we weren't underground, than Christina would be freezing in her black crop top with sleeves that cut around her shoulders, but when I mentioned this she just shrugged and said something about dressing for the weather that you want and not the weather that you have.

"What should we do with her hair?" Christina says as we stop admiring how great the three of us look and turn our attention back to Tris, who whines when we do.

"Let's pull it back, we might actually have a chance of seeing her face that way."

"Says the girl that's about to cake it in makeup," Tris says.

"Will you relax. I know what I'm doing."

Christina and I start to pull Tris' thick hair away from her face, revealing her full features for the first time since the Choosing Ceremony. We tie half of it up in two buns that sit on top of her head and then step away, satisfied.

"If it makes you feel any better, she'll be doing my face too," Christina says.

"Yeah, it doesn't." Tris grimaces as I run the eyeshadow brush through the color that I picked but she leans away when I bring it near her face.

"For god's sake, will you close your eyes and hold still."

"How am I supposed to trust that you won't stab my eye out with that thing?"

"Because I'm your best friend?" The words feel strange leaving my mouth, Tris and I only just met. We barely know each other, but it feels right; I really do like her.

She sighs and shakes her head, but closes her eyes anyways. "Yeah, fine. Just be careful please."

"You act like I've never done this before."

"Where did you even learn to do this anyways?" Christina asks as she takes a seat by the dressing rooms.

"It's an Erudite thing. We've – they've – got it down to a science over there."

"Yeah, I've noticed. Guess that's why everyone's so good looking."

"It's exactly why everyone's so good looking."

I like wearing makeup, but not nearly as much as Melanie and my parents like it. My parents have a vanity in their bedroom filled with all sorts of products. When I was younger and I didn't really have the hang of it, but old enough to wear a little bit of makeup for fancy events, one of them would sit me down there and work with incredible precision while I watched as intently as I could. Melanie taught me how to do eyeliner properly, letting me practice on her when I felt like I was getting good at it and it's never been as good as hers, but she has had far more practice.

"You've got to show me how to do this," Christina says. "You make it look so easy."

"I've had a lot of time to practice." I gently tip Tris' face to the side so that I can do her eyeliner more easily. When I finish she begins to open her eyes.

"No," I say, "don't ruin the surprise. I'm not done yet."

"Mimi," she whines again.

"It won't be much longer, okay. I'm just going to fix up your complexion a little and put some lip gloss on you."

"What's wrong with my complexion?"

"Nothing," I say. "I'm just making improvements. Now stop moving."

I'm done after another five minutes I step back from her so that she can see her reflection. "And open."

Tris stares at herself like she did in the bathroom this morning, as if she's in a trance.

"Mimi," she breathes.

"Do you like it?"

"Yeah." She nods. "I look…different."

"That's what I was going for." I beckon for Christina to come over as Tris continues to stare at herself.

"Sorry." She steps away. "I've just never been allowed to look at myself in the mirror for this long."

"Really?" Christina says. "Abnegation is such a strange faction."

"Could say the same about Candor," I reply for Tris.

Christina closes her eyes and just lets me work, after a moment Tris goes back to looking at herself. Of course I can see the differences between us; the glaring contrast between '_I've never allowed to look in the mirror for so long_' and '_My parents had a vanity in their bedroom_'. Tris and I are very, very different but in some ways so very alike. I mean, we just get along so well and so easily. Like I said, we just met but I feel as much genuine affection for her, and Christina as well, as I did – and still do – feel for Kira, Casey, and Eliza.

I do something a little more dramatic with Christina's makeup; winged eyeliner, maroon lipstick, glittering eyeshadow. She's already beautiful, just like Tris, and the makeup only makes her look more amazing.

When I finish with Christina I sit cross-legged in front of the mirror to work on my own makeup while Tris and Christina gush about how good they look. It doesn't take me nearly as long to do my own makeup, having practiced for a long time and knowing exactly how I like to look. When I'm done we all stand together in front of the mirror again.

"We're _so_ pretty," Christina says. "Will and Al should be jealous."

Tris and I snicker.

"Yeah," Tris agrees. "I think this is the best I've looked in my entire life."

"Oh please." I roll my eyes. "You're already striking even without all the improvements Christina and I made."

Tris stares at me with a soft smile and a pink blush rising to her cheeks. "Thanks. Um, no one's ever really said that before. That's another first I guess."

"Ladies," Christina says, "should we pay for all of this and let the boys bask in our radiance?"

Tris and I laugh again.

"Sure."

Dauntless pay for things in their own faction in points that everyone is allotted a certain amount of each month. As initiates we already have accounts set up and put together my outfit and makeup are three and a half of those points.

Tris also gets a set of hair care things that she offers to share with the three of us. We walk down to the tattoo parlor sharing laughs and compliments. Inside, Al is already in the chair and there's a thin man with an even thinner goatee drawing some sort of design on his arm. Will flips through a book and that's where Christina and I join him. Tris wanders off to go look at something else and Will looks up as we approach.

"Wow," Will says, his eyes growing wide. "I mean, um, wow. You two look nice."

"That was the reaction we were hoping for," Christina says with a smirk. "Right, Mimi?"

"Exactly right." I return her smirk. "So what have you been looking at?"

The two of us lean against the table on either side of him to get a better look at the book he's flipping through.

"Everything, but nothing so far."

"What about that one." Christina points to the very detailed, almost three dimensional spider. She snickers and says, "Put it like right on your hand or something."

"Yes, Christina," Will drawls. "Let me just get a huge fuck off spider inked onto the skin of my hand forever. That sounds like a great idea."

"Maybe they should just put jerk across your forehead so that people know what they're getting into _before_ you open your mouth," she retorts.

"If we're talking about honest tattoos then maybe you should get one that says loudmouth," I say with a laugh.

"Says the chronic smartass!" Christina exclaims with feigned indigence.

"Eh." I shrug. "I'm not going to pretend that's not true."

Will hums in agreement.

"But I'm not nearly as bad as Will," I add on with a grin.

"Rude!" he exclaims, pressing a hand to his heart like I've wounded him. "Here I was innocently looking for a suitable tattoo when I am so mercilessly teased for no reason!"

Tris has picked out a tattoo to get, much to my surprise. Although, I guess she never did say that she wouldn't

Christina, Will, and I don't wind up picking out anything to get. None of us could decide on what we wanted. So instead we just sat around talking while we waiting for Tris and Al to get theirs done. Though I did see a few I marked down in my mind, designs I wouldn't mind getting if I were ever interested I guess.

While we're waiting for the, I admire all the art on the walls. Every faction has its own unique ways of expressing itself, things that are all their own and associated with them by default. Dauntless is known for their wild, almost incomprehensible art and their skill with tattoos. I guess that's obvious. I have been to art museums in City Center, the ones that feature art from every faction but Abnegation; but I can very plainly see that the real wonders of Dauntless aren't the things that make it into the museums. I mean the artwork there is beautiful, but the art on these walls is far more quintessentially Dauntless that what hangs on those walls. It's loud, and abstract, and foreign, and beautiful. Just like almost everything I have encountered in Dauntless so far.


	9. Chapter 9: Trading Your Life For A Dream

_September 4__th_ _Year 499_

_Okay, so I chose Dauntless. That happened. It wasn't on a whim; it wasn't a split second decision. I mean I feel like I put a lot of thought into my actions before I dropped my blood on the coals. I weighed my options and I stood on that stage for an embarrassingly long time, but in the end I settled here. I do feel like I made the right choice._

_Sort of._

_I mean, I guess I'll find out as I get deeper into initiation. Now that I'm here I'm starting to realize that there's more to choosing a faction than just passing initiation; it's also about becoming what you chose to be. I can't just scrape by, I have to fully embrace Dauntless for all that it is and all that I can do here. I chose Dauntless for a reason, and well I'm only a little bit sure of that reason. Sometimes it makes perfect sense and then sometimes it just feels like what I did was crazy. _

_Part of me really is the Erudite girl who feels like she's throwing her life away to pursue some useless dream. I mean, I'm sure I could have accomplished great things in Erudite if I had stayed but in the end that wasn't what I wanted. I can't be the person that everyone had always been telling me I was. I can't be the person that my parents wanted me to be because that isn't me. Any chance of me being that girl went out the window when I found out that I'm Divergent. I'm not Erudite, I can't be Erudite; but I'm not Dauntless either. I'm just faking being it and I guess that I'll just have to keep faking it for the rest of my life. I love it here, but I'm not like Will, or Christina, or Tris. I'm not purely Dauntless; they belong here and I don't. But I might be able to, someday if I try hard enough maybe there might come a time when being like all of the people that now surround me comes as naturally as breathing. I'll fit right in just like I did in Erudite, maybe even better. _

_I'll be happy here, I just know that I will and if I'm not happy now then I will keep trying. I chose Dauntless for a reason and maybe I'm not totally clear on what that reason is all the time; maybe I'm just as confused as everyone else, but I still have to work with what I have._

I shut my notebook with a sigh. It's still early in the morning, someone else got up before me and turned the lights on but pretty much everyone is still asleep. I fell asleep a long time after lights out for no other reason than I was just up to late thinking about what's happened over the past forty-eight hours. I'm still not entirely used to the lights being turned out at nine-thirty or not being able to see anything without the lights on. Being underground is so weird to me, though I'm sure that after a few weeks it won't be quite so strange to me. The room is absolutely freezing early in the morning and this particular morning I don't want to get up. My arms are terribly sore, but I know that Four will be in with our wakeup call soon. Wanting to avoid the noise, I grab a change of uniform and make my way to the bathroom.

I don't even bother with standing up in the shower. I'm too tired and I would give anything just to sleep the day away. But as my eyes are closing again the door hits he wall with a bang.

"I swear the noise was quieter yesterday," Christina says. "If I didn't know better I would say that he was _trying_ to make us miserable."

"He might be," I respond.

Christina screams and so does someone else who I assume was Tris.

"God, Mimi!" She exclaims. "I had no idea you were in here!"

"Who else would it be? Molly?"

"…fair point."

I don't remain in the shower for very long after that; wringing out my hair and then sticking my arm out to blindly fumble for my clothes.

"Here you go." Tris hands me the pile.

After I'm dressed I stand in front of the long mirror with them and run the comb that Tris got yesterday through my hair.

"So, what do you think is on the menu for today?" Christina says. "More running and target practice with a side of belittling?"

"Don't forget the punching, that's the most important part of being Dauntless, right?" Tris says with a snicker as she ties her hair into a ponytail.

"Mhm," I agree. "Who do you think will get a gun to their head today?"

"You with the way that you talk back to him," Tris says.

I shrug, "If he doesn't want people to be dicks to him then he shouldn't be a dick."

"You've got a point there," Christina says.

I unzip my new makeup bag and begin to run the brush through the soft pink eyeshadow.

"Seriously?" Tris raises her eyebrows. "You're just going to training, why do you need makeup?"

"I don't need it. It just feels good; it's been a part of my daily routine for so long now that it feels more unnatural when I don't do it."

"Oh. Why?"

"To look good is to feel good, Tris." It's a phrase that I picked up from my father a long time ago when I asked him why he put so much work into his makeup.

Tris chuckles, "If you say so."

We walk to breakfast together, with Will and Al joining us at the table only a few minutes later.

"I don't think I'll ever-" Al cuts himself off with a yawn, "get used to this early wakeup call. 'S terrible."

Will and I share a look across the table that Christina notices and rolls her eyes.

"And what time did you two start class in the morning?" she asks with a smirk.

"Six," I say.

"Five forty-five," Will says.

"Overachiever." He smirks at me in response.

"Wait, what?" Tris says. "You started class at what time?"

"Erudite take extracurricular classes in the mornings and afternoons, it's what gives us – er, them – their academic edge."

"Technically they're open to everyone," I say, "but no one else ever really shows up."

"No one wants to sit through a six am lecture," Christina says. "Unless of course, you're Erudite."

"It wasn't all lectures," I say. "I did orchestra on Mondays and Fridays."

"You play an instrument?" Al says, looking far more interested.

"Cello."

"Ooh, you should play for us sometime." Christina presses her hands together in delight.

"If you can find me a cello in Dauntless then I absolutely will."

"I had an extra science class and extra math on alternating days," Will says.

"I also had government on Tuesdays and Thurdays but I had a sister who took hand to hand in the mornings."

"Oh damn, one of _those_ Erudite," Will says with a chuckle.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I put a hand on my hip and take a long sip of my coffee.

"The active ones, the ones who could kick my ass up and down the block. You know; gymnasts, and fighters, and track stars, and whatever. Edward was one of those Erudite, he's been studying hand to hand combat since we were ten."

"Well that explains a lot," Al says.

"No," Will gives him a deadpan look, "he's just ben using witchcraft to be that good. No prior experience whatsoever."

Al rolls his eyes. "You don't have to be such a dick about it, Dude."

"I am not," he says indignantly.

"Yes, you are," Tris and Christina say in unison.

He glances at me and I shrug. "Cultural difference I guess." I didn't think he was being all that rude. My old friends and I argued like that all the time, it was just how people interacted in Erudite.

"Erudite are weird," Tris says with a shake of her head.

"Mhm," I agree sarcastically. "We're the weird ones, Miss 'doesn't know what a hamburger is'; doesn't really know what anything is for that matter."

She frowns and pokes at her breakfast, she no longer looks so happy.

"Hey," I say, putting my hand on her forearm. "You know that we're just giving you shit, right? We don't actually hold any of that against you."

"Yeah," Will says. "I thought that was obvious."

"No," Tris says, "I get it, I guess it is kind of funny. I guess I'm just not used to people, uh, insulting each other for fun."

And the look on her face makes me feel bad, makes me feel callous. I've never interacted with anyone who doesn't get the way that I interact with people. Even Casey and I are prone to giving each other a bit of a gentle ribbing. But Tris is soft and quiet, gentle and still Abnegation in some ways because it's a hard transition. She's trying hard to shake her old factions habit just like I am and our birth factions are enemies, our parents are enemies; it's like we're speaking two different languages.

"I'm sorry."

She looks up from her food at me. "What? No, no it's not…it's nothing."

"That's not true. I mean, we weren't really raised around the same humor. Different factions and all."

"I mean, Abnegation has no humor so I barely understand any of your jokes." She flashes me a grin.

Christina laughs, "That was good, and…really true."

"Oh believe me," Tris says, "I know."

Four does not walk us from the dining hall to the training room, instead we find our own way and that's why we're all ten minutes late. Four is waiting for us very impatiently. He says nothing as the ten of us arrive; just sighs through his nose and shakes his head, gesturing for us to begin our laps.

"Are you wearing eyeliner?" Christina squints at Will's face as we run.

"Yeah, I do every day. Although I must say that the pens here aren't as the one I used to use."

"Isn't that the truth," I say.

"Wait," Tris says slowing down to fall in with the three of us. "Do you seriously wear makeup all the time?"

"Didn't we go over this in the bathroom this morning?" I say.

She shrugs, "Fair enough."

"Pick up the pace you four!" Four calls to us.

Tris takes off ahead of us and Christina, Will, and I split up by a few feet as we run faster. Christina is faster than me, her stride length allowing her to catch up and pass Tris and I hear the annoyed noise she makes as tries to keep up with her. But that's a bit difficult for when every one step Christina takes Tris has to take two.

"I'll race you," Will says, catching up to me.

"We're not going to catch Tris and Christina."

"Who said anything about Tris and Christina? On three?"

"You guys racing?" Al joins up with us, looking a little winded.

"Want to join?" Will asks.

"Sure, yep that sounds great." His breath wheezes.

"Go," Will says and we all try to speed up.

I have never been the fastest runner around, or even the second fastest. It's not something that I really enjoy, but I'm faster than most people expect me to be and that's why out of the three of us I arrive first, gasping for breath and grinning. Tris and Christina are already waiting along with Peter, Edward, and some of the others. Molly, Al, Will, and Myra run like a small pack, Will and Al attempting to outpace each other.

"Okay," Four says when we're all finished with our laps. "We're starting with fighting and we'll get to target practice after lunch. Get to it."

At about ten, Eric walks into the training room and about half the initiates freeze for a second. Eric strikes up a conversation with Four as her watches up before he takes to pacing around, weaving in and out of the pillars and examining each of us with a critical eye.

"Aren't these a sorry looking bunch," he says to Four. "Have you ever seen a group of more pathetic looking initiates? Max must be lowering his standards if even the Stiff was able to make it through. Bet she won't last long though."

Tris grimaces but says nothing and hits the bag harder than she was before.

"You remember our days in their shoes right, Mighty Four? Tiny and bright eyed, ready to take on the world."

Four rolls his eyes. "I remember not having nearly as many irritating initiates as we do this year. Not to say that there weren't any."

Eric chuckles. "Right you are. So these are the problem students."

"Some of them."

He pauses at some students, observing them; Edward, Peter, Tris, me. He is standing and watching me. I don't turn to look at him, I keep practicing as though he never appeared in the first place.

"Second jumper," he says, looking me over. "You know, I swear that I know you from somewhere."

I don't respond, I continue to refuse to even look at him. I can't get distracted now and I certainly don't want to irritate Four. I don't like the guy, but I would rather not incur his wrath any more than I already have.

"I'm talking to you, Blondie," Eric says, his voice laced with annoyance

I turn to face him, clasping my hands together in front of me. "Yes? Is there something I can help you with?"

I've decided that I don't like Eric, but I know that If I'm ever to get ahead in Dauntless I have to be nice to him.

"You know, there are those that would say that second place is just first loser."

"Mm." I glance at Tris out of the corner of my eye, she is watching the exchange as she trains and our eyes meet.

"Are you always so quiet?"

"She's definitely not," Four appears from the pillar to the other side of me.

Eric snorts. "Blondie's one of your problem students? She looks like someone who whines about breaking a nail."

"You'd be surprised."

If I could glare at either of them I definitely would. Instead I laugh politely as if they said something funny. Eric gets a look on his face for a second, but it's vanished before I can think too much about what it might mean.

"Eric, if you could let my initiate get back to work. I have to go make sure the others aren't getting into trouble."

"You can literally see all of us from where your standing," Christina interrupts.

Four glowers and rolls his eyes.

"Another one of your problem students?" Eric says with raised eyebrows and a smirk.

"You have no idea." Four stalks away.

I go back to hitting the punching bag, trying to ignore Eric again in hopes that he will leave me alone to practice.

"I don't think I ever caught your name, Blondie," Eric says. He does know my name, Four told him what it was the night I arrived; it seems now I have two assholes flatly refusing to learn my name. "But I do think I know you from somewhere."

I bury my annoyance further. "Mimi, nice to meet you."

"Mimi," he repeats, drawing out both syllables in a way that makes me bristle. "Interesting."

I clench my jaw like the things I want to say could slip between the top and bottom rows of my teeth. Instead I hit the bag harder. The hairs that come loose from my ponytail are stuck to my forehead and the back of my neck with sweat but I don't stop. I can feel him continuing to watch me.

He clicks his tongue. "Interesting. Guess I'll just have to keep my eye on you and see how much of a problem student you really are." He walks away to go torment some other poor soul.

Four might just have some competition for who can make me loathe them the most within five minutes of opening his mouth. How lovely.

"Malachite," Edward slides up to me on my way to lunch, stepping directly in front of Tris, causing her to stumble and glare at him so bitterly he might just spontaneously combust.

"Yes," I reply, "that is my last name."

"You've got a pretty powerful family then."

"If you're looking for favors then allow me to shatter you dreams right now."

"Funny," he says in a flat voice. "Not looking for favors, just a friend in all of this insanity. I'm Edward."

"I know. I'm Mimi."

He smirks, "I know."

"Mimi, hey." Will appears at my other side. "Hello, Edward." He seems suddenly irritated.

"Will, hello, I was just talking to Mimi here, we Erudite have got to stick together."

"Yeah, hi." Christina catches up to us, walking quickly to keep pace with us. "We're all Dauntless now and the sooner we put aside all our old faction stuff the better."

Edward grimaces and rolls his eyes. "Sure thing, Candor."

Christina glares at him as Will and I share a look, not quite a grimace but not a smile either.

"Let's go," Christina says as we enter the dining hall. To emphasize her point she reaches around Edward to grab my arm and pull me away after her.

"What was that?" Tris says when the three of us sit down.

"That was Edward." Will rolls his eyes. "Told you he was an asshole."

"I've met my fair share of uppity Erudite," I say. "I just didn't think that the guy who was so obviously Dauntless would be one of them."

"You're pretty uppity yourself, Mimi," Al says with a chuckle.

"The fact that you even use that word is pretty damning evidence." Christina laughs with him.

"Yeah but I'm not-" Will and I share that look of mutual exasperation. "–like that."

"I warned you, Mimi, I really did," Will says. "I'm shocked that he didn't take the opportunity to brag about his little hobby."

"I think he has plenty of opportunity to show off to Myra," Christina says with a snort. "Four looked like he was about to have a coronary if they got any more cuddly."

"I'm surprised that he didn't attempt to shove them apart," Tris jokes.

"Wow." Will raises his eyebrows. "No comments about how inappropriate that is?"

Tris rolls her eyes, "Shut up."

"Oh and no bread to throw at me this time?" Will turns to Christina. "Must be my lucky day."

"Don't think I'm above flinging these potatoes at you," she says with a mischievous pointed look.

"I'd like to see you try," Will flashes her a grin but when Christina scoops some of her mashed potatoes onto her spoon and turns toward Will his smile drops.

"Not the face." He covers his face with his arm, drawing laughter from the rest of us.

"Not so tough now are you?" Christina gives him an impish grin.

Will makes various scoffing sounds until he finally just rolls his eyes, which makes the rest of us laugh even harder.

After lunch we go back to target practice, which is largely uneventful. Eric doesn't even bother to show up to harass us.

I don't actually know that much about Eric. I mean, I've never bothered to pay very close attention to Dauntless' leadership before. I'm vaguely aware that they have more than just the leader and representative for some reason, some old tradition, something historical. Make no mistake, I did pay attention in Faction History but I just never saw a reason to care about Dauntless very much until now. I'm starting to regret that, there's a lot that I might be missing simply because I never found it important.

I had a similar problem in government class; I know the names of every Erudite department head, but I can't for the life of me recall the names of the other three Dauntless leaders. I can't even name all the people on the Abnegation Council. I know that I'll have to if I ever want to get into politics, my mother knows the names of everyone who's anyone plus the names of their family and some friends. It shows people that you care even if you don't. As a Dauntless citizen it is my responsibility to care, as the daughter of a faction leader it was my responsibility to care about Erudite's most important. I'm sure that Tris grew up in a similar situation, as the child of one of only three other Faction Council members that have children. Though, perhaps not entirely similar. I would never have said what she said to Jeanine, or any faction leader. It wasn't awful, not as awful as I thought it was at the time anyways. It was plenty surprising though. I am not sure what I expected out of her; I guess just another demure and quiet Abnegation girl, the perfect embodiment of Abnegation's teachings because that is what she has been raised to be just as I was with Erudite. I suppose her Dauntlessness was inherent and uncontrollable; in retrospect it is actually rather funny.

By the time we're dismissed for dinner, I'm so hungry I feel like I never ate lunch at all. All I want to do is eat and then sleep; possibly forever, I haven't decided. My arms hurt the worst out of everything and my hands are bleeding. I have a feeling that I'm just going to have to get used to that. My days of soft hands and perfect nails are over; the same goes for my perfect hair. I think that might just be the one thing I'll miss about Erudite that doesn't have anything to do with my family.

"Okay," Christina says as we sit down. "So, not to be like a 'Bad Transfer' or anything, but does anyone else really miss their old faction?"

Al buries his face into his hands, quietly screaming into them. "Yes."

"More than I have any right to because I was the one who wanted to leave in the first place," Will says.

I nod. "I mean, like, I don't really miss all the pressure to be something I'm not, but like everything else I mean."

"I would kill someone for a manicure and some literature," Will says. "No joke."

I laugh. "I want my laptop."

"I want my mom," Al says and we all laugh even though I'm sure we all know the feeling.

"Tris?" Christina cocks her head at the one person who's been strangely quiet this whole time.

She shrugs. "I don't know."

"I love Dauntless," Christina says. "It's the best thing that ever happened to me and whatever, but I really miss my dad's cooking. That was just, like, a thing that was really great even when nothing else was."

"The twenty-four-hour coffee houses down by Erudite tower were the shit," I say. "It was my lifeblood." I have so many fond memories in those little coffee houses, at least one with everyone I knew. When school was on break, my friends and I would stay there for hours talking, playing the games that they had there, and watching the foot traffic pass outside the window that didn't even begin to slow until after midnight. My siblings and I spent a lot of time there too, it was the one thing that we could all agree on to do. I used to wait there to be picked up after school when I was much younger, when my siblings and I all walked together and I always got there first because my school was the closest.

"Don't I know it," Will says. "I used to live by one and that was where I would hang out with my friends until, like…for a long time, okay. I woke up in the middle of the night last night and I've never been so bored in my entire life. And I sat through Professor Vaughn's government class."

I snicker. "Must've sucked to be you; I had Dr. Kalique."

"I didn't even know Dr. Kalique taught government. Isn't her doctorate in psychology?"

"No offence," Al says, "not to be 'Too Candor', or whatever, but what the _fuck_ are you two talking about?"

Christina starts laughing as he finishes his sentence. "Thanks, Al." She turns toward Will and I. "What? Someone has to keep you two coherent."

"Did you guys never take government?" I raise my eyebrow.

"I didn't have electives," Tris says.

"Of course you didn't." Christina rolls her eyes. "I took home ec and then art, much to the disappointment of my parents."

"Why would I want to sit through an entire class about how much the faction leaders hate each other and always have?" Al says. "I got enough of that from history."

"Because it's fascinating," I say, though I say it as more of a question than a statement.

"Not when you're in Professor Vaughn's class." Will sighs. "Every day was just a fight to stay awake."

"And on that note, who's ready for those actual fights?" Christina says tiredly.

"Not me," Al says in exactly the same tone. "I'm gonna get my ass kicked."

"Well, in theory none of us have a chance of winning," Will says.

"Oh that's reassuring," Christina scoffs.

"Wait," Will says, holding up his pointer fingers in sort of a 'pause' gesture. "But, we're exactly half the transfer class and I don't possibly think we can _all_ get our asses kicked."

"Yeah unfortunately, you can't Erudite your way out of this one," Christina says. "All the brains in the world are not going to stop you from getting punched in that big mouth of yours."

"Did you just use a proper noun as a verb?" Will says.

"Will, with the priorities here," Al says, rolling his eyes.

He huffs. "Can I go five minutes without someone mocking everything that I say, please?"

"Don't make it so easy then," Christina and I say at the same time and then share a laugh.

Will pouts. "You guys are the worst and I hope that I'm assigned to fight one of you."

"Careful," I warn with a laugh. "I just might, as you said, kick your ass up and down the block."

As the rest of the table breaks into laughter, Wil grumbles. "At least I know that you're listening when I say things. That's something."

"All so I can use it against you later." I smirk at him.

"See." He gestures to me and shoves my shoulder gently. "This is what I'm talking about. Terrible." He shakes his head and almost falls out of his chair when I shove him back.

We spend the rest of dinner talking about really nothing. The heaviness of missing home vanishes as quickly as it came. I know that I said would only miss my family and maybe the luxury, but I'm really starting to think that it's more than that. Whether I was really suited to be there or not, I can't deny that it was my home for the first sixteen years of my life and to a degree it will always be my home.

Sitting here, I think about Gwendolyn again just like I did at the Choosing Ceremony. Everywhere I go might be somewhere that Victoria and Gwendolyn might have once adored. They were born here, their family lived here once. They once had roots here. I wonder if Gwendolyn always knew that her life in Dauntless wouldn't last, if leaving was just something that she knew was always going to happen. It is sort of hard to believe that Gwendolyn might have ever thought that she belonged here. She's just not Dauntless in any way that I've ever encountered; she's quiet and reserved, doesn't exactly strike me as the sort of person to collect an array of body modifications. She's like Kira, she just seems to belong in Erudite. Maybe she would disagree, I wouldn't know because she never talks about it.

For all of the family that have in other factions or that were born in other factions, I sure don't know a whole lot about those other factions.

Though I'm sure that I would be laughed out of Dauntless for saying this aloud, transferring here is a learning experience. It's a lesson in becoming something beyond what I have always been taught to be. Perhaps, in some respects, that is what it will always be.

_September 4__th__, Year 499_

_I've never limited myself to one entry a day before and I see no reason to start now, and it has been a rather interesting day._

_For starters, I met the Dauntless rep up close and personal for the first time. I know that if I ever want to get ahead then I'm going to have to just swallow my pride and kiss up to him, but he's repugnant. He's got an even shitter attitude than Four and he's already testing my rather considerable patience. I don't know what their deals are, but neither of them want to use my name for some reason. Four's whole 'I'll learn your name when it's worth my time,' whatever is bullshit to the highest degree. He's only got ten initiates; I don't think it's that he doesn't know it. Eric obviously has his own thing going on, both with Four and in general. He just seems to have this predisposition to act like an asshole to everyone that he comes in contact with. It makes me wonder how he ever came to be faction rep in the first place, his entire job is to present the best possible image that he possibly can. Although, I suppose Dauntless' little PR problem isn't caused by nothing._

_Oh well, I guess; it's nothing, I suppose. It doesn't matter, because I will do whatever it takes to get to where I want to be in life. I still want to live up to my family's legacy, that is the one thing that hasn't changed. I will always want to make them proud, and I can still do that in Dauntless. I have to still do that in Dauntless._

_It can be done, I think. I mean, Mark did it in Amity and Minerva did it in Candor. The deck's a little stacked against me in Dauntless; given that my family probably think of my choice as a total disgrace and I've got no clue what in the hell I'm supposed to do, not to mention my horrific instructor and terrible odds of passing…_

_Oh god._

_No. No. Failure isn't an option for me; not even remotely. To fail is to lose everything, to fail is the end of my life and not just as I know it. I don't think that I could survive being factionless, as in I really do think that it would literally kill me. Factionless life isn't something that anyone survives; it's just something that everyone wastes away in and then dies because of. It's just a matter of how long your miserable existence continues to drag on for. Already, two Dauntless initiates have become factionless that I know of. There was an Erudite boy behind me that couldn't keep up with the train to jump on and an Amity boy that never jumped off. I don't think that I will ever know what happened to them. I suppose that I shouldn't even care; it's none of my business. But I do. I care because I've never seen anyone wash out that quickly. Erudite is hard, but it's not like this. This is cruel. Or Dauntless. Maybe both. But this is the life that I chose, this is what I wanted for myself. Maybe when I left Erudite it was for an idealized version of Dauntless, a picture that I had painted in my head of this perfect faction that doesn't actually exist. I really didn't know what I was getting into when I chose Dauntless and now I'm in way over my head, but so is everyone else. We all transferred in without any inkling of what would be thrown at us. We all literally took a leap of faith for no other reason than that we really do believe that bravery is worth risking everything for. That risking everything is bravery. We're all here because we believe in bravery, because we are brave, because we want to be brave. It is our singular commonality._

_But I don't belong, not just here. I wasn't born Dauntless or born to be Dauntless. Part of me will always be Erudite, it's been stitched into the fabric of my personality in an inextricable sort of way that will forever keep me from really being Dauntless. I can't just leave it all behind, I don't see how anyone could just sever themselves from the first sixteen years of their life without a problem. I can't tell if that's just because I'm too attached to my family and too weak to let go, or if it's because of…that._

_God, I can't even write the word. The thought alone makes me more uneasy and paranoid than I already am. I would say that it's because I don't want to risk anyone finding out by reading this, but I think I've danced around the issue long enough that it's pretty damn obvious. The truth is that it's just because I'm uncomfortable with it. It's bad enough that I have to __be_ _that, using the term just makes it so much more real in a way that I absolutely cannot stand. If I just pretend like it's nothing, like it's not happening to me, like it's something sort of weird but not that bad, then I never have to think too deeply about the fact that existing as it alone could get me into serious trouble and that it divides me from everyone else in a way that I can't control. It hurts. I don't know why, but it hurts._

_I'm never going to be like my family, I'm never going to be like my friends; I'm just stuck the way that I am and I'm not sure what the consequences are for being like this, but Maria made them sound pretty damn dire. I've got an imagination; I can dream up the different things that could come of anyone finding this out, though I suppose the most obvious answer is expulsion. Should anyone take notice of what I am I could be thrown out of Dauntless and then we circle right back around to the whole thing about factionlessness. About how no one survives it. But I don't know how to hide it; I don't know how to act Dauntless. I'm not quite sure how to be loud, rowdy, and reckless like all the Dauntless members are. Unlike with everyone else, for me it might not come with immersion. I might never develop that personality type because I psychologically cannot. I'm wired for Erudite, at least in some regards; what those regards are I have yet to figure out. It's hard to tell what's just the way that I was raised and what is my Erudite brain._

_I don't even like to think about what might be Amity. I don't even know how to be Amity let alone what's supposed to come naturally to someone who is Amity. Like my brother, I guess. I mean, I'm nice and all; but that's just because I don't see why I wouldn't be nice unless given a reason not to me. Is that what 'being Amity' is supposed to be? No, I don't think so. That's just being polite. So I guess it's like my brother. But I've never really thought of Mark and I as being that similar for a multitude of reasons. Guess that's the other stuff as opposed to Mark being actually normal._

_I shouldn't waste my time thinking about all of this. I should be focused on initiation, on trying to climb the ranks. I should focus on my friends and my training._

_Should being the operative word there._

"Lights out." Four sticks his head through the doorway and then his arm to turn off the lights. Guess that's where I'll have to leave off my entry. I suppose that's for the best; no sense it getting more wrapped up in my own thoughts than I already am.


	10. Chapter 10: Round One

Monday comes far too quickly and from the moment we step into the training room things are different. The mat that used to be folded up near the wall is now laid out in the center of the floor where there used to only be concrete.

Though the morning and lunch both pass without incident, I know that once we step back into the training room things are going to become significantly less void of incident. Eric has been hanging around training more and more, which is enough to make me uneasy; but he seems especially giddy as we all stream back in from lunch.

"Maybe someone'll vomit on the mat," I hear him stage whisper to Four, anticipation dripping from his words.

"Yeah, that sounds like fun to clean up." Four rolls his eyes.

"Your problem, not mine." Eric pats his shoulder pseudo-affectionately and Four looks like he wants to break his hand.

A whiteboard has been rolled in on off to the side of the mat and that's where all the matches are displayed. Before I can even find my name, Tris and Christina distract me.

"Ow!" Tris exclaims as Christina elbows her.

"Sorry," she says. "But look, I'm up against the tank."

"The Tank?" Tris asks.

My interest piqued, I find Christina's name on the board; she's matched up against Molly, the Candor girl who looks like she could crush my skull with her bare hands. Thus the nickname I guess.

"Yeah. Peter's slightly more feminine looking minion." She nods her head over to where Peter, Molly, and the other Candor boy – whom I have dubbed carrot hair until I learn his name – stand talking.

"Those three," Christina moves her finger back and forth between them, "have been inseparable since they crawled out of the womb, practically. I hate them."

"Al," Will punches him gently in the shoulder, "I wish you luck, buddy." The two of them have been matched against each other.

Al rubs his shoulder. "Thanks. Ow."

My name is at the bottom of the board, I've been put up against Edward. So that's great, you know because he's been studying hand to hand forever. That will go well for me.

I'm brought back to thinking about Minerva again, how easily it came to her. When she tried to show me some things I was young and all but hopeless, but she was amazing. It never really occurred to me that I might be like her someday, like with Mark, we don't exactly have a lot of similarities.

Dammit. I was really looking forward to winning my first fight. Guess I'll just have to look forward to winning my second fight, because I'm sure as hell not going to win this one.

"Al and Will!" Four calls. "Let's go."

"Wish me luck?" Will says as he starts to walk away from us.

"Hope you lose," I say.

"Kick him in the dick, Al! For me!" Christina yells and Al buries his face in his hands.

"Why do I even bother?" Will shakes his head.

"Good luck, both of you," Tris amends for both of us.

The two of them stand across from each other on the mat and put their hands up to protect themselves just like how Four taught us. They shuffle in circles along each other and take jabs that barely glance off. Al is at least half a foot taller than Will and broad. He seems to have gotten the hang of Four's teaching just like the rest of us, as much of dick as Four is I can't argue with the fact that he's a good teacher, but Al lacks the finesse that Will has.

"So what's wrong with them?" Tris says, still looking at Peter and his friends.

"Peter is pure evil. When we were kids, he would pick fights with kids in other factions and then cry and say that they started it what an adult came to break it up; and because he was Candor, of course everyone believed him." She wrinkles her nose. "Drew is essentially his sidekick. I seriously doubt that he has a single independent thought in his head." So that's Carrot Hair's name. I don't care all that much, but I suppose that it saves me a moment of embarrassment should I ever have to address him. "And Molly…she's the kind of person who fries ants with a magnifying glass just to watch them flail around."

Back on the mat, Al punches Will hard in the jaw so hard that it turns his head and I wince as do Tris and, weirdly enough, Al. Eric smirks at Al as he plays with one of the rings in his eyebrows.

Will stumbles back, one hand pressed to the side of his face and blocks Al's next blow with his arm, though from the look that he gives it's just as painful. Al is strong, but slow and Will takes advantage of that. He weaves around Al, until he's just inside his guard and then jabs his fingers into Al's solar plexus, before backing out of Al's reach again. Al wheezes, but presses forward.

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Peter and his friends putting their heads close together and whispering, casting furtive glances in our direction every so often.

"I think that they know we're talking about them," Tris says.

Christina shrugs. "So? They already know I hate them."

"They do? How?"

"Because I've told them." Christina flashes a saccharine smile at them and waves.

Will hooks his foot around one of Al's legs and yanks him to the ground with a loud thud. Al scrambles to his feet as Will once again bounces back far away from his reach.

"We try to be pretty honest about our feelings in Candor," Christina says, drawing my attention back to her. "Plenty of people have told me that like me and plenty have told me that they do. It's no big deal."

"We just…weren't supposed to hurt people," Tris says, "back in Abnegation.

"I like to think that I'm helping them by hating them," she says. "I'm reminding them that they aren't god's gift to humanity."

"I had a few Erudite classmates who could have used that particular kind of help," I say with a chuckle as Dahlia surfaces in mind for the first time in a while. I know that it may seem like I pick on her specifically a little too often, but she's a bitch to everyone and anyone she comes across that is not an adult or someone that she thinks she can use to get ahead. I very specifically remember her being nice as pie to me right up until the moment that I befriended Casey and Eliza, two people whom she deemed unworthy of even the most basic kindness.

As the fight drags on, Will and Al become more hesitant than they were before. They're becoming worn down, not to mention that they're friends and not at all interested in hurting each other too badly. Will flips his brown hair away from his eyes. They both glance at Four but he gives no response to their stares. Beside him, Eric checks his watch and fake yawns.

After a few more seconds of circling, Eric seems to grow sick of the lack of action and shouts, "Do you think this is a leisure activity?! Should we break for naptime?! Fight each other!"

"But," Al straightens and drops his hands, "is the fight scored or something? How do we know when to stop?"

"You'll stop when one of you can't continue," Eric says.

"Or until one of you concedes," Four says.

"According to the old rules," Eric corrects him. "In the new rules, no one concedes."

"You really wanna break them on their first fight?"

"A brave man never surrenders."

"A brave man acknowledges the strength of others."

"No concessions," Eric repeats.

"Lucky for you," Four turns his head away from him. "those weren't the rules when we fought."

Eric's eyes darken and his jaw clenches. He doesn't have to say anything for us to know which one of them to listen to. Eric is a Dauntless leader, he has the authority. Therefore, concession is not an option.

Will and Al take up their fighting stances again; Al keeps his feet firmly planted as if he is made of stone while Will bounces back from foot to foot. Though it's true that Al could knock Will out with one good shot to the head, his victory is entirely dependent on whether or not he can actually hit Will, who seems to have taken up the strategy of hitting once and then moving back out of range as fast as possible.

Will dodges yet another one of Al's punches and quickly moves around behind him and kicks him hard in the back. Al grunts and stumbles forward, but manages to stay on his feet. Al whips around and charges at Will, latching onto his arm so that he can't move away this time and then punches Will hard in the jaw while his hands are occupied trying to free himself.

Will's pale green eyes roll back into his head and he crumples to the ground. It nauseates me and I lean back against the cement pillar, unable to tear my gaze from him.

"God," Christina whispers.

Al's eyes widen and he falls to his knees next to Will. He taps his cheek with one finger and the room falls dead silent as we wait for him to respond. For a few seconds, he just continues to lie on the ground with one arm bent beneath him at an odd angle. Then he sucks in a large breath of air and groans, bringing his arm out from beneath him and putting it over his eyes. He mumbles incoherently at Al and Al mutters back, clearing the hair from Will's face.

"Get him up," Eric says. He stares at Will as though he's a meal and Eric's half-starved.

Four circles Al's name on the whiteboard to show that he won.

Al wraps his arm behind Will beneath his arms and helps Will get to his feet.

"I'll help." I begin to walk forward to them.

"You'll stay right here, Blondie," Eric says. "You're up next."

Four instead walks over to Will and wraps his arm around his waist. "I've got him," he says to Al.

Al lingers in his place for a moment as Four helps Will toward the door, watching them go.

"Off the mat, initiate!" Eric yells at Al as I step up.

"Good luck, Mimi." Al squeezes my shoulder as he walks back to Tris and Christina.

"I'm gonna need it," I whisper.

Edward and I are still for a small infinity before the fight begins and then he rushes me. I back up three steps and then twist, trying to get behind him. But he's as quick on his feet as I am on mine and there's hardly a moment where he isn't facing me. I punch, aiming for his sternum but he catches my wrist and bends my arm back. I try to twist my arm out of his grip, but then he tries to do to me what I just watched Al do to Will. When his punch comes at my head I turn away and bring my other hand up and at the angle I am I know that I won't be able to land an effective punch. Instead, I elbow him as hard as I can in the mouth.

We exchange blows and though I would like to say that mine were perfect and always landed on the weak points that Four made us memorize, I would say that I could only manage to do that a fifth of the time. Edward hits as hard as I expected to and his technique is nearly perfect.

He brings his leg up and kicks the back of my knees, but as I fall my fingers manage to snag the collar of his shirt. Caught unaware, I feel him bend and his nose smash into the top of my head. I shove him back away from me as my knees hit the ground to buy me a few seconds to get back to my feet.

"Will you two get on with it already!" Eric shouts.

"Would love to, unfortunately-" the rest of my sentence is lost because Edward punches me in the stomach.

His nose is dripping blood and he looks annoyed. I'm sure that this fight has already dragged on much longer than he would have expected or liked it to. He tries to punch me in the face but I duck under his arm and go for his side. As his guard drops down to protect himself there, I straighten quickly and punch him in the throat. He makes a gagging noise but neither stumbles nor falters. He punches me in the face and I can't shake off blows like he can so I stumble back. Using this to his advantage, he knocks my feet out from under me and my back slams into the ground. He drops down but I roll to the side before he can pin me and sit up to kick him in his exposed ribs. I kick him hard enough that it knocks him down onto his side. I scramble over, not bothering with getting to my feet and try to pin him, placing one knee on his chest and trying to get his arms under control like we were taught. He flails and one of his hands catches in my hair. He drags my face toward his and then head-buts me. When I snap back, he has the opportunity to shove me back. Despite how strong he is, I don't go very far; I wind up still on his legs, but he can sit up now and he manages to free himself relatively quickly. We both jump to our feet and I punch him in the face. My nose has started bleeding too and fatigue is starting to get to me. I try to put some distance between us with an array of different punches, but he scarcely lets me out of an arm's reach. He punches me in the jaw and then grabs my shoulders to hold me still while he knees me in the stomach. When I double over, his knee comes up again and this time it hits my face. I fall a second time and don't quite make it away when he drops down to pin me. One of his hands locks my upper right arm in a vice grip and holds it to the ground while the other tries to land a hit on my face despite the fact that I keep moving my head. I can't hit very hard at this angle and my left arm isn't as strong as my right anyways, which Edward must have figured out, so it's like my attempts to fight back are doing nothing.

Seemingly annoyed with my struggling, Edward stops trying to punch me in the face and uses that hand to pin my left wrist. He head-buts me and it's not something that I can dodge.

The next thing that I'm aware of is someone's hand on my face. I grab the wrist that it's attached to and open my eyes.

"Hey, she lives." Edward looms above me looking very, very smug. "Take it easy. Fight's over."

I huff and very quietly say, "Fuck."

"Here." Edward stands and offers me his hand. "Let's get you to the infirmary."

I take his hand and he pulls me to my feet. "I don't need to go to the infirmary. I'm good."

"Uh." Edward gives me a quizzical look. "I…knocked you out." There's a slight upturn at the end of his sentence that makes it sound like a question. "You weren't fine just a minute ago and, from one person who's been knocked out before to another, you're not fine now."

"Fine," I concede. "If only to make sure that you didn't knock something loose." I take a step and then immediately realize what Edward meant about not being fine because the world feels like I'm spinning and going to be sick. I grab his shoulder to try to stop myself from collapsing again.

"See." Edward wraps an arm around my waist to keep me upright. "Not fine."

"Not fine," I mumble. "Got it."

"Tris and Myra!" Eric yells as Edward helps me off the mat. "You're up!"

Tris and I exchange smiles and we pass each other.

"Kiss for good luck?" Myra says and Edward nearly drops me to give her that kiss.

We walk through the winding hallways together in silence for all of about a minute.

"So why does Four call you Ice Queen?" Edward asks.

"'Cause he's a dick-bag." I shrug. "I don't know."

Edward snickers. "Never mind. I think I've figured it out."

I roll my eyes. "Oh really? And why, pray tell, would that be?"

He hums, tapping his finger against his chin as though he's deep in thought. "Well, and I might be totally off base here, but just as a guess; it might have something to do with positively subzero personality."

"Don't also be a dick-bag, Edward. I have taken one too many hits to the head to deal with that. Or maybe not enough."

He chuckles. "Go with one too many. Can't have you passing out on me again, Ice Queen."

"Oh not you too," I groan.

His chuckle turns to a laugh. "Guess I'll just have to think of an obnoxious nickname of my own for you."

"If you try then I swear that the next time we're up against each other, I'll turn you into a fine powder."

"Oh please, I'm already fine. And I think that you might have a bit of trouble doing that considering how fast you went down this time."

"Yeah, and your bloody nose was just spontaneous and not at all because you hit it on the top of my head of all things. I didn't even have to punch you."

He snorts. "There's blood in your hair by the way. Like, a lot of blood in your hair."

"I figured. That's gonna be a bitch and a half to wash out later."

He hums in agreement and we arrive at the infirmary. He opens the door and we have to go through sideways because I'm still having a bit of trouble standing up on my own.

"Oh great, more of them," says the aqua haired nurse who's checking over Will. She turns to Four. "I hope that this isn't going to become a regular thing."

"Initiation, Phyllis. Can't be helped."

"Can't be helped my ass," Phyllis mutters. "Just stop making them punch each other into unconsciousness and you're golden." She smiles at me. "Come here, Darling. Let's see how bad you've been damaged." She hands Edward and I both tissues to clean up the blood flowing from our noses.

"You're good to go back, Edward," Four says.

Edward leaves and I take a seat on the bed next to Will's, who is now awake.

"Mmm, I thought you were supposed to win your fight," he mumbles.

"Yeah, that was before I got matched up against Edward. You weren't kidding about his skills."

"Oh not at all. Looks like you fucked him up a little, going off of his face and your hair. Wish I could have seen it."

"Deep breath." Phyllis presses her stethoscope to my chest. She does that five more times and then sets the stethoscope off to the side and pulls the curtain out between Will and I. "Take off your shirt, I'm sure you're already bruising." I do as she says.

"Hey," I say to Will, "you know that I didn't actually mean what I said about hoping that you lost, right? I really didn't think that you would."

"Yeah, I know that, Mimi. It's Christina that I'm concerned about."

We share a laugh that turns into me groaning in pain.

"Yeah, don't do that," Phyllis says. "It's gonna hurt a lot more tomorrow morning, by the way. But nothing's broken, you and the other one are good to go."

"Thank you, Nurse Phyllis," I say and then pull my shirt back on.

"Thanks," Will calls from the other side of the curtain.

"It's what I'm here for. I'm sure as young Dauntless you two will find yourselves in here quite a bit. I wish you both the best of luck in initiation and that you're not in here often."

"I'll wait here for the others," Four says.

The last thing that I hear before I walk out the door is Phyllis saying to Four, "You'd better be making sure that they're eating right. They're growing kids and that boy is built like a string bean."

"If it's any consolation," I say to Will as we walk down the hallway, "you looked really good. I wouldn't be surprised if Four gave you points based entirely on how great your technique was."

"Wow," Will says, "that sounded like a compliment. I will take it."

Our conversation is cut short when we pass Tris in the hallway being supported by Edward.

Will chuckles. "You would think with all that pent up aggression from years of Abnegation repression, she would have been able to win that fight."

"Shut up, Will," Tris mutters, barely heard over our laughter.

Back in the training room, Peter and Drew are fighting and not at all evenly matched. Peter is beating Drew into the ground, but he hasn't passed out yet.

We walk over to Christina and Al and I sit down, leaning back against the pillar to feel the cold of the concrete against my skin. I still feel nauseous, but I flatly refuse to throw up because that would just be embarrassing.

"How'd Tris look?" Will asks.

"Good," Al says. "Really good."

"Guess she's not quite as helpless as we thought," Christina adds.

"Yeah, neither is Myra. I mean the girl's the size of a leaf, but I guess Edward's been showing her some things," Al says. "It was…wow."

I curl into a ball trying to stay awake and keep my lunch down. My head is killing me

Tris comes back right as Peter knocks out Drew and sits down beside me. In the passing hours while the others complete their fights, I start to feel marginally better. I'm sure I look like hot garbage but it doesn't hurt to have my eyes open anymore.

The last person before Christina goes town like a sack of potatoes and she tilts her head back against the pillar. "Oh shit."

"You'll do great," Will says.

"We'll cheer if you want us to," I say.

Christina rolls her eyes. "Thanks, but I'll pass."

She tucks her short black hair behind her ears as she steps up onto the mat and then cracks her knuckles. Her nerves show clearly on her face, though I can understand why. Will, Tris, and I just got done getting knocked the fuck out by our respective opponents.

I miss the beginning of the fight because another wave of nausea forces me to rest my head back on my knees and close my eyes because those fluorescent lights are definitely not helping.

My head snaps up when I hear Molly wheeze as Christina kicks her in the side. Molly grits her teeth and I half expect her to growl. Her hair falls into her face and she doesn't brush it away; instead, she smirks and then dives at Christina's middle with her hands outstretched. They both go crashing to the ground and Christina thrashes underneath her, but Molly is much heavier than she can manage to escape from.

She punches and Christina jerks her head to the side, but Molly just keeps trying until she finally manages to land a blow to her jaw, then her nose, then her mouth. I cover my mouth with both hands and watch in sheer horror.

"Jesus Christ," Will slides down next to me.

"Don't, uh," I cringe when Molly lands another punch, "she's not done yet."

Blood runs down Christina's face and drips onto the mat; she's still conscious so Eric won't call the fight. She screams into her teeth and I wish that she would just pass out so that we can get her to the infirmary already. Molly doesn't even show a hint of remorse as she continues to beat Christina.

After a few more agonizing moments, Christina screams and drags one arm free and punches Molly in the ear to knock her off balance. When Molly teeters, she manages to wriggle free and crawl away. She puts one hand over her face and the blood covers her fingers in seconds. She sobs into her bloodied hands and then screams again when Molly kicks her and sends her sprawling onto her back. I can't bring myself to tear my eyes away; all I can do is watch in horror and at some point during the horror, Will and I wind up clinging to each other while Tris and Al do the same.

"Stop!" Christina wails, holding out her hands as if they will protect her as Molly pulls her foot back again. "Stop. I'm…" her cough is mixed with a sob. "I'm done."

Molly smiles and backs up. My friends and I breathe a collective sigh of relief and, ignoring my dizziness, I stand to go help her and Will moves with me. I take a step forward but stop dead when Eric stalks toward the mat. He looms over Christina with his arms folded.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" he says quietly. "You're done?"

Christina moves into a more stable sitting position and then nods, the tears that run down her face mix with the blood and then drip from her bruising jaw onto the mat.

"Get up," he says with icy calm. I would not expect such an intensely Dauntless man to be so chillingly quiet. Dauntless are loud, explosive; like the Candor. Angry Dauntless scream and fight, I've seen the occasional fight break out over practically nothing. I know what Kira tells me. I also know exactly what Eric's doing, that quiet rage and unerring calm that can sometimes be the most fear inducing thing it is. It's the tone that my mother uses when she's upset with people, it's a very Erudite mannerism.

He grabs Christina's arm as she is wobbling to her feet and then yanks her to her feet himself.

"Follow me," he says to the rest of us and nods his head toward the door.

We do so in dead silence down the stone corridors. I would actually like Four to appear right about now, round the corner and cut us off. Maybe, just maybe, he might be able to talk Eric down from whatever he is about to do.

Once again, I hear the Chasm before I see it. I feel it as a vibration in my chest and the roar fills me ears.

Most of us all stop by the railing, before the bridge, but Eric grabs Christina and pulls her up the stairs and out to the middle of the bridge. There's no one around but the eleven of us; the sun filters down through the skylight and casts the whole space in a washed out white light that's too bright for my recently punched head to deal with very well.

Eric shoves Christina against the railing and she groans, almost crumpling again but managing to support herself against one of the metal bars.

"Climb over it," he says.

"What?" she gasps and gapes at him with wide eyes.

"He wouldn't," I hear Myra whisper.

"No," Edward gasps.

"No fuckin' way," someone else whispers.

"What?" another initiate claps their hand over their mouth in shock.

"He can't," Al whimpers.

"He can't actually do that," Will mutters.

"I think he can," I whisper back.

"Shut up!" Eric snaps at us. He whirls back on Christina; enunciating each word he says, "Climb over the railing. You have three options; hang over the Chasm for five minutes and I will forget your cowardice, fall and die, or give up and leave." As he finishes her sentence, more water splashes up from the raging river below and coats the thin metal rails in what has to be absolutely frigid water. Even if she does choose to do it, there's no way to know if she'll be able to hold on. Even without just having been beaten to hell and back it would be highly debatable whether she'd be able to do it. She's looking at a choice between factionlesness and death.

The image of her slipping is enough to almost make me burst into tears.

"Fine," she says with a tremble to her voice. She places her feet on the bar closest to the ground, gripping the top bar as hard as she can. She shakes as she climbs over and then lets her feet hang in open air. She looks over at us and I can see the fear in her eyes.

Al sets his watch and then it becomes a waiting game.

For the first minute and a half, everything is fine. Christina keeps a firm grip on the railing and her arms don't tremble. She doesn't so much as spare Eric a glance; she looks only at the nine of us, or probably just at me and her other three friends.

But then the river crashes up again, splashing the bridge and soaking Christina's back. She cries out as her face strikes the barrier and her hands slip until she's hanging only by her fingertips, she tries to get a better grip but now her hands are wet.

None of us can move a muscle to help her. As brave as we're supposed to be, none of us are willing to cross Eric. I don't think that anyone is willing to cross Eric. I would not think that Dauntless would be the ones to just let a person risk death because they're – we're – too afraid to anger a single person; but here we are.

Christina lets out a sob louder than the river that snaps my heart in two. Another spray of water coats her body and she shakes violently. One of her hands slips from the railing and she can't get it back up again no matter how she tries.

"Come on, Christina," Al says with surprising volume. "You can do it! Grab the railing again!"

Christina swings her arm up and fumbles for the railing again, straining for it and everyone is dead silent but Al cups his hands around his mouth and hoots.

"You've got this!" Will exclaims.

"We know you can do it!" The words break from my throat with more power than I knew that I had.

"Hang on!" Myra yells.

Drew makes a noise that dies when Peter elbows him in the ribs.

"Come on," Tris says barely above a whisper. She clears her throat and says much louder, "One minute left."

She manages to grab the railing again just barely and a cheer ripples through the crowd that makes Eric glare daggers at us. Christina's arms shake so hard that I wonder if the bridge itself is shaking, but even so she twists her head and stares at us again.

"Come on, Christina," Tris and Al's voices join together, then mine and Will's, Edward's and Myra's. It becomes a chant.

"Shut the fuck up!" Eric roars and stomps on the bridge just as another wave of water splashes her. She shrieks as she slips of the railing and half of us scream with her.

But she doesn't fall. She manages to grip the bottom of the bridge at the very last second, hard enough to keep her from falling to her death. She's much closer to the splashing water now; the next big wave could drag her down with it.

"Time!" Al almost spits the word at Eric. "That's five minutes, let her up."

Eric looks down at his own watch, taking his sweet time examining it from different angles as though it's the most fascinating thing he's seen all day.

"Fine," he says after too long. "You can come up now, Christina."

Al walks toward the railing.

"No," Eric says. "She has to pick herself up."

"No she doesn't," Al growls.

"Fuck you," I sort of mutter under my breath. Sort of because everyone around me hears me and Eric may have also heard me.

"She did what you said," Al continues, "she proved that she's not a coward. You never said anything about her having to get up on her own."

Eric doesn't say anything as Al storms toward the railing with the other three of us right on his heels. Will and Al reach over and are able to pull Christina up from the bottom and once she's high enough, Tris and I are able to assist them. We haul her over the barrier and she immediately drops to the ground, knees clanging against the metal of the bridge. She breathes heavily, her face is still smeared with blood from the fight and now her entire body is soaked and she's shivering. We go down with her and catch our breath together, saying nothing and only forming a protective little circle around her as she begins to sob.


	11. Chapter 11: Coping

The five of us skip dinner and head straight back to the dorms, Christina leans against Will for a portion of the walk and then Al scoops her up in his arms and carries her while she cries into his shirt. We stop outside the doors.

"Chris," I say, "do you want to rinse the blood off you?"

She nods.

"I'll grab some fresh clothes," Tris says, walking into the dorm.

"I'll get dinner," Will says.

"I'll talk to the nurse and get some bandages," Al says.

The boys walk away together and I'm left alone with Christina.

"Don't leave me alone," she says weakly as she props herself up against me.

"I wouldn't dream of it." I help her limp into the bathroom and the last I see of her she kneels on the shower floor.

"I'll be right here," I say. "I won't leave."

The only response I get is her wet clothes being tossed over the curtain and the water turning on. I pick up the clothes and hang them on the hook next to the shower, then hop up on the sinks and wait.

Tris comes in not even a minute later, fresh clothes in her arms.

"Hey Chris," she says loudly. "I'm back."

The two of us sit in silence, side by side listening to the water. Right along with the sound of the shower running, I can hear Christina still crying but neither of us can think of anything to say because what difference could it make? How could we possibly even begin to make better what Eric did to her? We can't; we can only be here for her and offer whatever support that we can.

"Okay," Christina says after a long time as she turns off the water. "Hand me my clothes." She's still sniffling and her voice breaks halfway through her sentence.

She steps out after another minute of silence. This is the quietest we've ever been around each other and the tension is palpable. She pulls back the curtain and stands before us in the comfortable training clothes that we were provided with but the t-shirt seems to be oversized for more comfort. She still shivers but I don't think that it's because she's cold anymore.

After a moment of saying and doing nothing, she quickly moves forward and envelopes us both in a crushing hug. I return it after a brief second or so of surprise, putting one hand on Christina's back and wrapping my other arm around Tris. She takes another second longer (not used to being hugged I guess), but I feel her fingertips bump against mine on Christina's back and her arm snake around the back of my neck.

We stay like that for a little while, hugging and Christina starts crying again and I try not to cry but fail and I can feel Tris' shoulders shaking as she begins to cry too.

"Okay," Christina says finally. "Okay. I'm okay."

"You're okay," I agree, pulling back slightly so that I can look at her face.

"You're okay," Tris echoes me.

"I'm okay," Christina repeats and it sounds like she's more telling herself than she's telling us. "I'm okay."

"We're okay," Tris says.

Christina nods. "We're okay."

"We're okay," I agree.

We walk back to the dorm room, Tris and I with our arms around Christina protectively, and find the boys waiting for us. Will has enough food for five and Al has ice packs, band-aids, and gauze. They look up when we enter and smile.

"I'll dress your hands," Will says to Christina as the three of us kneel down on the concrete floor with them. Christina puts one hand in his and he begins cleaning it with disinfectant that makes her hiss in pain.

"I know," Will mutters. "Has to be done." Christina nods weakly.

We lapse into silence again and my gaze is fixed on Christina, on her every little flinch. Will is through, cleaning out the blood and grime that gathered beneath her nails and the bits that stuck on her palms after the shower.

"Talk," Christina says after a while. "Please talk this is so tense."

"Uh." Al glances around the plain room looking for anything of interest to make conversation about. "Mimi still has blood in her hair," he blurts out.

"I'll fix it later," I say softly, more focused on Christina than the conversation.

"It's a good look for you," Will says. "Bright red. You should consider dying your hair that color."

"Sounds gaudy," I mutter.

Al snorts. "You and Tris are such prudes." In a high voice that could either be me or Tris he says he says, "No, I won't dye my hair; that's gaudy. No, I won't get a tattoo. No, I won't do literally anything adventurous whatsoever.

"Hey," Tris says indignantly. "I have a tattoo." She pulls the collar of her shirt down and to the side to expose the three birds in a line just beneath her collar bone.

"For the record, I only said that bright red was gaudy. I haven't ruled out dying my hair entirely."

"Semantics." Al waves his hand as if he's brushing my statement away. "My point still stands."

"On what?" I say, barely able to contain my laughter.

I hear Christina give a weak laugh too and internally breathe a sigh of relief.

We're gonna be just fine.

After dinner, when everyone comes back, we're all still sitting on the floor chatting. After Will finished dressing her wounds, Christina broke out the nail polish that she'd bought the other day and Tris painted her nails. She'd never done it before, but she wanted to just do something and it eventually turned into everyone getting their nails painted. Because her hands stung so badly, Christina couldn't do anyone's but she was happy to critique. Not that the Candor even wear nail polish, that same dishonesty in appearance policy.

I did Al's and Will did Tris' and they looked great because of course they did. Erudite is the faction of cosmetics, everyone knows how to do everything. While we were on the subject, we got to have a bit of a laugh over how badly our makeup had gotten messed up, which we'd been ignoring until then.

Peter, Molly, and Drew all ignore us when they come back for the night and go straight to Peter's bunk to continue the conversation that they were having. But I don't miss the glances that Molly and Drew both cast in Christina's direction. They weren't malicious, but they make me a tad defensive anyways.

A few of the others make passing comments but mostly they help by not saying anything at all. The noise in the room makes it feel full and eases some of the tension that had built when it was just us and Peter's group.

When Edward and Myra return, they make a beeline for us. Usually they isolate themselves from the rest of us in the corner. They're the only transfers who haven't bothered to make any other friends. But I guess it didn't really matter when they had each other.

"Hey," Edward says, "we just wanted to check up on you, Christina. I, uh, I don't even know what to say. I'm sorry. That really sucked. I'm sure it sucked a lot more for you but, uh, yeah…" He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly.

"We know that you're not doing great," Myra says, "but we still felt like we should check up on you."

Christina offers them a smile. "I'm going to be just fine, you guys. Thanks for thinking of me. I heard you cheering. You didn't have to do that, but you did and it, uh, it means something to me to know that you two, who I don't even really know that well, were rooting for me."

"Of course," Myra says. "We're practically family now, being in the same faction and all."

"Some family," Christina says, shaking her head.

Edward nods. "Yeah. It, uh, shit sucks."

"Want to sit down?" Christina offers.

Edward and Myra sit down in between Christina and I. I remember earlier in the week when Edward seemed like he was going to be kind of a dick. Not like Peter, but not really the sort of person to be around. He was pretty rude to Christina back then too and now he's expressing very genuine concern, though he doesn't exactly seem like he's able to put that concern into words. And earlier today when he walked me to the infirmary, joked and kept me propped up. There wasn't a hint of the overconfident asshat that I met earlier in the week. I think that I might have misjudged Edward, he doesn't seem like that bad of a guy.

I glance over at Will and he seems as surprised as I am, his head tilted slightly to one side in confusion as he attempts to analyze Edward without saying a word, to pick apart his words to figure out his true intentions.

"And you guys." Edward gestures to Tris, Will, and I. "I know you three took one hell of a beating. How are you doing now?"

Tris and I share a look that we then turn back on Edward and Myra. Myra blushes and ducks her head while Edward chuckles.

"Sorry," Myra says quietly.

"Don't apologize for skill," Christina says. "No offence Tris, but she was great. You both were great." Al and Edward nod in agreement.

"Tris definitely gave me a run for my money," Myra says. "Thought I was going to lose that fight, honestly."

"Do you stay after hours?" Tris asks. "Because I don't remember you being that good in practice."

"Perks of having a boyfriend trained in hand to hand combat." Myra pats Edward's arm affectionately and he kisses her cheek. Out of the corner of my eye I see Will raise his eyebrows at Tris and Tris glares back at him.

"Yeah, I can see that coming in handy," Tris says, nodding.

"Thanks for checking up on me, you two," Christina says. "I really, really appreciate it."

"Like Myra said, we're like family now." Edward rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. "Like a really terrible and dysfunctional family, but a family nonetheless."

We all get up off the floor and retire to our respective bunks, Will lingering by Christina for a second longer and speaking quietly to her. She hugs him and then bids him goodnight.

The lights go out but I stay awake, staring off into space and listening to the sounds of everyone else sleeping. Al and Christina both cry in their sleep and Tris tosses and turns like she's having a nightmare. I lean back against the wall and stare blankly at the wooden door, which I can only barely make out in the darkness. After a while I grow tired of sitting in the dark and I stand up, the cold stone beneath my bare feet making me shiver. I need to get this blood out of my hair or it will be a serious problem tomorrow morning. It's probably already dry and even more disgusting and a bitch to clean. I did kind of bring it on myself what with the whole pulling Edward down by his collar, but that does not in any way negate my right to internally complain about it.

I bump into and stub my toes on more than one bunk trying to get to the door. There's not a single sliver of light so I have to resort to sticking my hands out and fumbling blindly toward the door. The lights in the bathroom are painfully bright and as soon as I turn them on I step back and cover my eyes, staying like that for a minute before slowly taking them away and allowing myself to get used to them. I can almost feel any lingering urge to sleep leaving me body and part of me just wants to give in and shower in the dark, but I don't like that idea any more than sticking with the bright white lights on that make everything look sterile and bleached. I look at myself in the mirror for the first time since the fight and realize how shit I really look. I have a big black mark in the center of my forehead from where Edward head-butted me, and a bruise blooming in shades of purple and yellow just under my right eye. I sight through my gritted teeth and then get in the shower, grimacing at all of the other bruises littering my body.

The cold water feels good against my bruises but scraping Edward's blood out of my hair with my bare fingernails is considerably less enjoyable. We're provided with shampoo and conditioner, which is nice because I go through about half a bottle trying to get it all out. The water turns bright red and I get the majority of it stuck under my fingernails as I have to literally rake my hands through my hair and scrape it off because I let it dry. I don't regret putting it off to take care of Christina, but this is not enjoyable.

When the water becomes clear again and I can touch my hair again without coming away with red fingertips, I decide to shut off the water and get dressed again. That's an ordeal all on its own; I was sore going into this fight from practice and now I'm sore from the fight on top of it. I kind of feel like I'm decomposing between all of the aches, pains, and the blood.

That last one was a joke.

I look at the roots of my hair in the mirror as best I can, combing through and checking for any lingering spots of blood. My hair is so thick and dark that I can barely even tell where the blood is and I wind up putting my whole head underneath the sink to scrub and scrub until I feel confident that it's all gone

I hear the bathroom door bang open and I jump, bumping my head on the faucet in the process and swearing under my breath. The door slams shut and I lift my head to see who came in, wringing out my hair while I do.

Christina stands with her back pressed against the door and her eyes wide and afraid. She looks at me but says nothing, as she continues to hyperventilate.

"Christina." I approach her slowly with my hands spread out before me. She flinches away from me, stepping back into the corner.

"It's me," I say gently. "You're okay. Whatever happened is over now."

She holds her breath for a few seconds and then lets it out in a shaky sigh. "I – I know. I just had a nightmare. I fell."

I don't know what to say, so I hug her instead and though she doesn't start crying again she trembles in my arms.

"I could have died," she whispers. "I could have died today."

"But you didn't," I say, running a hand over her hair. "You're here; you're alive, you made it through. We all knew that you would."

"He tried to kill me, Mimi. I…how am I ever supposed to see him again? How am I supposed to get through the rest of initiation knowing that my psychotic instructor might try to kill me at any point, and for what? Not being able to win a fight where I'm clearly outmatched?!"

"Christina, you don't have to do this alone. I promise you that no matter what happens during the rest of initiation, I'm here for you. We're all here for you and we're not going anywhere. We'll protect you, that's what friends are for."

"I can't ask you to do that," she says. "I can't…I can't imagine any of you guys having to go through that and I don't want to. Mimi, what he did to me…I can't stop thinking about how many ways it could have killed me, and how it could have killed you guys if you were in my place."

"But it's okay," I say. "We're all okay and so are you."

"No, I'm not!" she exclaims, burying her face in my shoulder. "I'm not. I almost died today and I don't know-" She lets out a sob. "I don't know how cope with that."

I don't respond. What could I say to that? She's right, I don't know how one is supposed to cope with the fact that their instructor almost killed them; how she's supposed to see Eric every day for the next fifteen weeks and then for the rest of her life because he's a Dauntless leader, that is the man running our faction, that is the man responsible for our safety and prosperity.

Excuse the fuck out of me for wondering how the hell he's qualified for that position. Cruel and brutish as Dauntless is, I suppose I can see him being like a professional fighter or something; but sure as shit not a politician and absolutely the last person that anyone sane would want in charge of initiation. I can't imagine how that conversation must have gone, "_ We need someone to take over initiation, who should we pick? _" " _Oh, how about the guy who looks like he trips toddlers for fun; that sounds like a good idea. _"

"Christina," I say, "I don't know what to say to make this better. I just want you to know that we're all behind you a hundred percent; we're not going to let anything else that's bad happen to you. Anything that you need, we're here for you."

She nods. "I – I…Thank you, Mimi. You're sweet."

"What are friends for?"

We walk back into the dorms together with our arms around each other, separating when we reach Christina's bunk. It takes me a while to fall asleep, but when I do it is peaceful and dreamless.

As late as I went to bed last night, I'm still among the first people up. I try to stay quiet as I grab my clothes for today and slip out of the room. I'm sure that we'll have to fight again, so I don't bother with my makeup no matter how odd that feels. I'm really not looking forward to today, I have more aches and pains than I can really describe and I'm sure that I'll only acquire more. How many times are we going to do this? How many times am I going to get punched before these fifteen weeks are out? I guess I'll find out.

I didn't get a chance to tie my hair up before going to bed last night so it's a total rat's nest. I can already see it starting to lose its sheen as more time passes between washes using the Erudite products, which are as nice as they come. My hair is really the least of my concerns right now, or at least it should be, but to look good is to feel good and right now I feel like shit.

In the mirror, I see Myra come in behind me looking dead tired. Her auburn curls have lost the spiral that they held on the first day and she's traded her white bow for a black hair tie.

She stands next to me in front of the mirror and mutters something that sounds like 'good morning'.

"Sleep well, Myra?"

"Those beds suck," she mumbles as she begins to run her brush through her hair.

I nod. They're lumpy, rock hard, probably older than we are, and the room in general is perpetually cold. I guess that's what happens when you're at least a couple hundred feet underground.

Molly, Tris, and Christina trickle in, each looking as tired as I am. Molly keeps cutting her eyes and Christina; Tris notices and makes a point of always being between the two of them. We get ready in silence because no one has anything to say and we don't feel like wasting our time on small talk. The others stream in one after another too, some talking quietly but most just trying to wake up. I notice a few of them casting furtive looks at Christina as we get ready but no one says anything. We're all apprehensive about what happened yesterday and I think the last thing anyone – especially Christina – wants to do is talk about it.

After we're done, Christina, Tris, and I go back into the dorm. In her absence, someone had spray painted the word 'Stiff' on Tris' mattress in red and written it all over her the wood of the bunk.

She groans. "Go to breakfast you two, I'll..." she sighs, "take care of this…this…"

"Shit?" I offer. "I'll help."

"Me too." Christina says.

She shakes her head. "Don't bother, just go."

"Nice decorations," Peter says as he fluffs his pillow. He is the only person in the room besides us, obviously it's him who did it. Probably got Drew's help. They're the only ones this invested in making another person miserable.

Christina and I leave Tris and Peter alone and when the door is shut I turn to her. "You think she'll be okay?"

"I don't see why not," Christina says. "Peter's an asshole, but this is the girl who has stood up to Four before. I think she's going to be just fine."

We meet Will at our usual breakfast table after we get our food. Four hasn't sat here since the first night and everybody is oddly ridged when it comes to tables. I find myself a little out of my depth here; sure, we ate communally at school but that's different from being crowded into a room with literally thousands of other people.

"I've got a question," Christina says to Will, propping her chin up on her fist.

"I've probably got an answer," Will says.

"What's your beef with Edward? I mean, last night he seemed pretty okay."

Will sighs, glancing off in the direction of the table that he shares with Myra and a few of the other Erudite transfers. "It's kind of a long story. The short version is that we used to date and then he dumped me for Myra, and honestly I'm a little bitter."

"Thought so," Christina says as she takes a bite of her hashbrowns.

"You _thought so _?" Will raises his eyebrows.

Christina swallows. "Sure. In Candor we're taught to pick up on little things that most people don't even notice to discern if a person is lying. The way you talked I figured that there was something else was going on there and I basically narrowed it down to you guys used to be friends or you used to date."

Will chuckles. "And you're saying that all of you Candor know how to do this?"

Christina shrugs. "Yeah basically."

He shakes his head. "Remind me to never cross a Candor. Last thing I need is someone learning all my secrets via a minor twitch in my hand."

"Be afraid," Christina laughs. "Be very afraid."

Will raises his eyebrows. "What ever happened to getting rid of all that old faction stuff, as you said."

"I don't see you getting any dumber, book boy."

Will shrugs. "Touché."

Tris and Al never join us for breakfast; perhaps I should have stuck around to help her clean up her bed. She said that she was fine but it can't feel good to know that she has a metaphorical target on her back because of where she comes from.

We each finish up another cup of coffee, which, like everything here, isn't nearly as good as what we had in Erudite, before getting up and heading to training. When we arrive, Tris and Al are already there. Tris stares at the board in horror, she's been put up against Peter. I'm fighting Will.

"Oh no." Christina turns to Tris. "Are they serious? They're really going to make you fight him?"

"Maybe you can just take a few hits and pretend to go unconscious," Al suggests. "No one would blame you for it."

"Aim for his eyes," I say flatly and make a gesture as if I'm poking out his eyes. "He can't hit what he can't see."

Tris is completely out matched; Peter is nearly a foot taller and noticeably stronger. After what he did to Drew yesterday, who is supposedly his friend, I don't doubt that he'll snap Tris in half today.

"Maybe," Tris says without inflection, still staring at the board. "And thanks for the advice, Mimi."

"Can you even reach his eyes?" Christina says with a snicker. No one responds and she begins to look guilty. "Not the time for humor. Got it."

"Well, on a lighter note," Will says, "looks like it's me against Mimi."

"Good," I say. "I've been waiting to fight you since day one."

"Oh the feeling is entirely mutual, Dearie." He flashes me a saccharine smile.

"Are you two even friends?" Myra basically manifests from thin air next to me and I jump. "It's hard to tell sometimes."

"It's an issue of constant debate," Will says.

I roll my eyes. "Honestly, we find it hard to tell sometimes."

"Yes, they're friends." Christina shoves her way in between the two of us. "They're just so used to pretending not to have feelings that they now have no idea how to actually be nice to people."

Myra snorts. "Yep, that sounds like our old faction."

Four walks in, coffee in hand.

"You're late," I kind of mutter under my breath.

"Laps." He makes a circle motion with his finger. "And I heard that, Ice Queen. You can take an extra one."

I shrug. "Worth it."

After our laps we have target practice. I've grown used to the sound and the recoil like everyone else; my aim is starting to get better too. I don't hit the bullseye every time, or even most of the time, but I get there a few times.

"You would think that after a week or so they'd be halfway decent shots by now." I don't have to look over my shoulder to know that Eric just walked in. The asinine comments and annoying voice is clue enough.

"Yep," Four agrees. "Too bad they seem to be more concerned with getting all buddy-buddy rather than practicing."

I roll my eyes. What in the hell would Four and Eric know about having friends? We can't all be bitter, broody manchildren who demean and torture teenagers for fun.

I try to block them out and focus on hitting the target, but that's a little difficult when I can't make the bullseye no matter how many tweaks I make. I glance around me, checking on how the others are doing. To my great annoyance, Peter seems to be doing the best out of all of us. _Goddamn _do I want him to fail, to just be shit at _something _like the rest of us are. Even Edward if struggling to get much closer to the bullseye than the second ring.

"Hey, come on guys," Peter says as he makes another bullseye. "It's not that hard."

"I hope you shoot yourself in the foot," I snarl and keep trying.

I know that realistically speaking, Tris can't win her fight this afternoon. But I would give anything just to see him bruised and bloody like the rest of us were yesterday. I'm sure that I'll get my shot at Peter at some point in these next few weeks, but I want to shut him up so badly. Not that I really could at this current stage in my training. I'm not an idiot, I know that him and Edward are the best in our class; I know that if I tried now, Peter would wipe the floor with me.

We finish at the same time we do every day, the hours of our morning filled with Eric making sarcastic quips about how terrible we are. I swear that if I roll my eyes any harder they'll just roll straight out of my head.

"Alright," Eric says, pacing back and forth before us. "I hope that after your abysmal display yesterday, you've all learned your lesson." He skims his eyes over us. "Well?"

We nod, some of us agree verbally but it's begrudged and tense. No one will risk angering him again, not after yesterday. I see Christina shudder violently in the corner of my vision and I want to wrap my arm around her, but instead I just keep my eyes focused on one of the pillars on the other side of the room.

He smirks. "Good." He claps his hands and glances back to the board. "Let's get Molly and Edward up here, two of yesterday's victors and therefore marginally less of a disappointment than the rest of you." He jerks his head back at us, but I take notice of how it seems to be very specifically at my four friends and I. All of us but Al lost our fights yesterday, and I'm sure that he expects us all to lose today.

When Molly and Edward step up and Eric walks away from us, we all sit down near the pillars to watch the fight. Not wanting to sit alone I'm sure, Myra joins my group.

"What an asshole," she whispers.

"I can't believe that's our faction leader," Will whispers back.

"I can," I say flatly.

_And that's my future boss if I get my way, _I think. I want more than anything one day be a part of Dauntless' leadership. I'd like to serve on the faction council just like half my family does. I find politics terribly exciting, probably because it's what I've grown up around. Even outside of my family, I was raised among Erudite's upper class and that is all anyone ever talked about; well, that and each other and themselves. I like to think that the way that the other factions see Erudite is just a stereotype born from lack of understanding, but I can't say that it doesn't come from nowhere. My family is almost like the eye of the hurricane, mine and a few others, the Malachite family has very, very deep roots in Erudite. We've been tied in with the faction for longer than anyone can really remember; it's something that the twins get to inherit, because the rest of us left. It's their legacy now, the rest of us are free to do whatever we want.

The idea both thrills and terrifies me. After all, I'd spent a lot of my life basing my wants off of my family's, all of which hinged on staying in Erudite. Now that I'm gone, I can become whatever I want. I don't have to do what they wanted me to do.

Doesn't matter that I kind of am anyways, the point is that it's not for them anymore. I want to do this for me, because I have a choice and my choice is to lead.

Of course, to do that I'm going to have to do a lot better in initiation than I am currently doing.

I'm pulled out of my thoughts by the sound of Molly grunting in pain. They're both strong, but Edward is quick as well, and well trained. She won't win today.

She peels herself off the mat sometime later, half conscious and mumbling incoherently. As she and Edward clear the mat, Tris begins to tremble and all the color leaches from her face.

"Peter and the Stiff," Four says without inflection.

Tris stands and staggers to the mat. She wears her terror on her face and as she settles in her fighting stance, her shaking only intensifies.

"Here's hoping she passes out quick," Edward says and Myra smacks him on the arm.

"She's going to be fine," Will says even though we all know that she's not going to be.

"You okay there, Stiff?" Peter says, wearing a twisted smirk. "You look like you're about to cry. I might go easy on you if you cry."

She sneers and kicks him in the side.

"She's going to be fine," Will repeats.

I know Tris. She's brave, she's our first jumper; she's living proof than nothing defines you but you. She's as brave and bold as they come, what does it matter if she can throw a punch? Tris was made for Dauntless; it is simply who she is. I wish that I could be half as brave as her; I wish that I could belong like she does. I would give anything to just _fit _somewhere like she does, naturally and easily as if she has done this all her life.

Before Tris' foot can make contact, Peter grabs it and yanks her forward. She falls on her back, but manages to free herself quickly and get back to her feet.

"Stop playing with her," Eric says. "I don't have all day." He just cannot resist commenting on anything and everything, can he? I know that the Dauntless were never exactly ones for tact, but I have only met a few people in my life who are as purely mean-spirited as Eric. Guess I can add another name to that list; right under Peter.

Peter punches Tris in the jaw and she lurches to the side, looking like she's going to vomit. She tries to move away from him with clumsy and dazed movements, but he follows and kicks her in the stomach. She gasps for air and falls to the ground. When she tries to push herself up, Peter grabs her hair with one hand and punches her in the nose with the other. Her blood splatters on the mat to be cleaned up later, but the stain won't really go away. I can see where Christina's blood fell yesterday and I'm sure that mine is there too.

He shoves her back and follows it up with a quick kick to the side that sends her sprawling. But she still tries to get up; she still does get up, and when Peter gets in front of her she swings. She hits him in the stomach and he groans as the wind is knocked out of him. It doesn't take him off his feet or anything, it doesn't stop him from smacking her in the ear with the flat of his palm. But the point is made; Peter's not invincible, and Tris is more resilient than most people thought. Not me though, I figure that anyone who can jump first from a building _and _sass Four on the first night, has got guts.

I notice Four turn away and walk out without a word, I guess this just isn't entertaining enough for him. He must prefer it when the fight is more evenly matched so that both parties can injure each other in equal measure.

Tris' knees give out and she collapses to the mat. Peter kicks her in the stomach and she shrieks, trying to curl into a ball to protect herself. Peter kicks again and again and Tris' screaming grows louder.

"Enough!" Eric yells. Peter steps back and Tris falls silent. "Christina and Myra, get up here. And someone take care of her."

Al, Will, and I all go to her while Christina takes her place at one end of the mat. She looks down at Tris with sad eyes, we all do. Al scoops her up in his arms like she weighs nothing at all and looks back at Will and I.

"I can get her on my own," he says.

"I know," I say. "Just…please…"

"Don't stay too long," Eric says snidely. "You three have got the next two fights." He chuckles to himself and I have to bite my tongue to stop myself from snapping at him. I have to be nice to Eric, my whole future career hinges on him at least tolerating me.

We take Tris to the infirmary in silence. We all knew that she was going to get her ass kicked, but I don't think any one of us thought it would be this bad. After what he did to Drew yesterday, I guess that we should have. But it's still objectively horrifying.

We drop Tris off with Nurse Phyllis and two others, who when they stand together remind me strongly of the sun and moon. Nurse Phyllis looks down at Tris sadly and sighs.

"This poor girl." She shakes her head. "I am going to have words with Eric and Four this evening, believe you me."

Al smiles at her. "Thank you, for taking care of us and for everything."

Phyllis runs her hand over Tris' hair. "Of course, young man. It's what I'm here for."

"We'll take care of her from here," says the man with golden hair and skin, whom vaguely reminds me of the sun. "You kids can head back to training."

We hover in the room for another moment longer, saying nothing. None of us want to leave Tris, not in this condition. What if we're not here when she wakes up? She's going to be in a lot of pain and we can't possibly just leave her to that.

"Go," says the woman with white hair and a detailed full moon tattoo. "We'll take care of her."

Will is the first one to leave and the two of us follow him silently. We get back to the training room just in time to see the end of Christina and Myra's fight; just in time to see Myra fall unconscious. Four has reappeared, suddenly deciding that we do interest him after all; or maybe, somewhere in what I can only assume is a shriveled black heart of his, he doesn't want to leave us alone with Dauntless' sadistic representative because he knows what Eric will do to us if we happen to displease him.

"Well look who's taken my lessons to heart," Eric says to Christina, grinning wildly.

She shrinks away from him and goes to sit down. Edward helps Myra off the mat, speaking quietly to her.

"Ice Queen," Four says, "and Will. Let's go."

The two of us stand across from each other on the mat waiting for Four's signal to begin.

I flash Will a grin. "Hope you're ready to lose."

He smirks back at me. "Oh trust me, Mimi, I'm not going to be the one losing."

"Begin," Four says.

I let Will make the first move, going for my legs like I knew he would. It's what he did with Al. I move around his leg and take a swing at his neck that he blocks. We dance around each other, some blows land and others are blocked or dodged. Will hasn't gotten a chance to see me fight before today, but I assume that he's been watching all of us train and learning how we fight to give himself the upper hand before he ever steps up on the mat. Unfortunately for him, I've been watching too.

But as well matched as we are, Will is slowly beginning to back me into a corner. I can't let him, or at least not for another few steps. I continue to concede ground, one step back and then another until I block a punch and look behind me to see that I'm only two more steps from the corner. Will strikes again, thinking that it will press me back another step. Instead, what happens is that I sweep his legs out from him and when he falls I jump over him to put the larger area of the mat to my back so I can back up if need be. I kick him in the side to keep him down and feel a pang of guilt when he wheezes and curls in on himself. I hesitate and he uses that against me; his hand shoots out and he grabs my ankle, wrenching it toward him and pulling me off balance. I gasp and catch myself before my back can hit the ground. He lunges for me and I scramble just out of reach. We both get back to our feet.

"Not as easy to take me down as Al made it look, huh?" He pants.

I shrug. "Depends."

"Depends on what?" He swings and I move my head away, his fist comes to close that I can hear the air move next to my ear. As he retracts it I grab his wrist.

I twist his arm down and force him to move with it. He uses his other arm to swat helplessly in an attempt to get me to let go. He hits me in the face more than once, but I refuse to loosen my grip. I caught him with my left hand, which leaves the right one free to hit one more time and finish this. I punch him in the temple as hard as I know how and my hand stings from the blow, but it works. Will collapses and I catch him before he can hit the ground, slowly kneeling with him because I can't hold up his dead weight.

"Well," Eric says, "it looks like we have two initiates who have found their spines."

I keep myself from glaring at him by keeping my eyes on Will. Christina helps me move him off the mat as Al steps up; he's been pitted against Drew. If I had to guess, I would say that Al has this one. Maybe not in the bag, not something totally one-sided like Tris and Peter's match was, but I think he'll be able to eke out a win.

Will's head is beginning to swell and Christina and I have to drag him off to the infirmary before the fight starts. He's a bit taller than both of us, so we really are dragging him.

"Jesus Christ," I hear someone mutter behind me a short bit before Will is pulled away from Christina and I. Four throws him over his shoulder and walks away. After a moment of surprise, Christina and I follow Before we're even out of the training room, Will's eyes flutter open.

"Hey," Christina says.

Will mumbles incoherently and begins to try to walk on his own, which only results in him gently kicking Four in the thigh.

Christina giggles. "How're you feeling."

"Bad," Will says, his voice suddenly clear.

"Aw, poor baby," I say, patting his cheek.

He grunts. "Remind me again why I like you?"

I shrug. "Don't know."

Four all but drops him on the ground next to one of the concrete pillars and walks away.

"He'll be fine," he says. "No need to go to the infirmary."

"You sure that it's not because you don't want to get chewed out by Nurse Phyllis again?" I say.

"Ice Queen, be quiet or the next fight you have will be against me."

I don't respond; instead, I focus on the fight. Al and Drew are very similar in their fighting styles, both strong but not at all fast and good at taking hits. They exchange blow after blow with not a lot of damage seeming to be done to either side. Then Al gets hit hard in the nose and goes down. Drew stands triumphantly, looking back at our instructors and being met with unimpressed looks.

"Well that was boring," Eric says.

"Hey, big guy," Christina says when he comes over to us. "Sorry about your fight."

"Yeah, I thought you had that one" I say.

Al shrugs. "I don't know. I just…I just don't want to hurt anyone. It doesn't seem right, you know?"

"We have to, though," Will says. "It's the only thing that will keep our heads above water."

"Then maybe it's just not worth it," Al says, shaking his head. "You guys are my friends; I don't want to hurt you."

"Hey." Will wraps his arm around Al's shoulders. "You know that I'm not upset about what happened yesterday, right? It was either you or me."

"But it should have to be." Al sighs. "Shouldn't we be like…not be fighting members of our own faction? I mean, we're supposed to be each other's family, right?"

"Supposed to be," Christina says. "But I think this is one of those really dysfunctional families that would sell each other to satan for a corn chip."

We laugh, but Al's statement still stands. As long as I can remember I've heard that the factions are meant to be like a family to you, a community to belong to, especially for the transfers. It's why 'faction before blood' exists in the first place, because you're supposed to belong within your faction more than you ever could in your family. I don't feel that, not really, I am an outsider in Dauntless and I don't really belong here. But I didn't belong back in Erudite either and I don't feel like I deserve to be a part of my family until I can manage to actually do something with my life.

But I look at my friends and I can actually see them being my family; I can see us making it through this and staying friends, simply always being a part of each other's lives. We're all different, but I've gotten close to them like I was close to my other friends. Initiation may be shit, but at least we have each other.

We slog through the rest of the fights, which are no more exciting than that. I would say that they're actually more boring simply because I have no stake in who wins or loses. Most of my attention is pulled to Will and Christina, they talk quietly over the sound of skin hitting skin with the topic shifting and jumping back again that I can hardly keep up. Their mad giggles are met with odd looks from a few of their initiates, but largely the conversation fades into the background.

When the last person goes down, Eric stares at them for a moment with a blank look. Then he shrugs and says, "Okay, guess that's it. Everyone out."

"Wait," Four says. "Today's Saturday, that means you all just completed your first work of training, and you're all still alive. Congratulations. Tomorrow, we'll start on a schedule; Sundays and Saturdays will be devoted to combat training all day, weekdays will be target practice in the morning and sparring in the afternoon. So look forward to that. Now you can get out."

As soon as Eric and Four have turned away, Al's eyes flash open and he gets to his feet.

"Oh and one more thing." Eric turns back around. "Bright and early next week you'll all be going on a field trip out to the fence, where most of you will probably wind up after initiation. Be on the train at eight-fifteen. Four will be responsible for all you kiddies." He flashes us a menacing grin. "Have fun."

When we get to the infirmary, only the two who look like the sun and moon are there.

"How is she?" Will asks.

"Concussed," says the man with yellow hair. "She'll be fine though."

"She'll be sore," says the woman. "Fine isn't really the right word to be using with someone who was just beaten into unconsciousness."

"Fine by Dauntless standards."

The woman rolls her eyes in response. "You kids are welcome to stay until she wakes up. Phyllis already left to go chew out Eric and Four, but I'm Serena and that's my brother, Solstice, and we'll be around if you need anything."

"Just call me Sol," he says.

"Thank you," we all say in semi-unison.

"Let's get you kids some ice for those bruises," Nurse Sol says. He and Nurse Serena walk over to a giant freezer and begin scooping ice into plastic bags. I hold the one that they hand me to my face, letting the cold seep into my skin and take some of the pain away.

The four of us manage to share the two chairs by Tris' bed; Christina and Al half hanging off of either end and Will and I packed in the middle.

"Is her eye already black?" Will says, leaning over Tris.

"Shut up," Christina says. Tris groans and opens one eye, the other stays almost completely shut. She looks at each of us with a dazed expression and then settles on Christina, who's face is beginning to bruise from the hits that Myra got before Christina beat her.

"What happened to your face?" she mumbles and her words come out a little slurred.

Christina laughs. "Look who's talking. Should we get you an eyepatch?"

"Well I know what happened to my face," she says. "I was there…sort of."

"Did you just make a joke, Tris?" Will says, grinning. "We should get you on painkillers more often if you're going to start cracking jokes. Oh and to answer your question, Myra happened."

"I won, though," Christina says. "Gotta say, she's a lot better than I would have imagined. Also, Tris, you missed Will and Mimi kick the shit out of each other."

"We should have placed bets," Al says.

"I would I have won," Christina says. "I knew Mimi had had one in the bag."

Will rolls his eyes. "You're only saying that because you constantly want me to lose."

"Yeah, but I'm always right." Christina smirks and Will grumbles.

"How are you feeling, Tris?" Al says, his eyes are wide with concern.

"Okay," she says. "I just wish that I could stay here forever so that I never have to see Peter again."

"Don't worry about Peter," Will says. "Edward will beat him tomorrow."

"How can you be so sure?" Tris says.

"They've been matching up people based on who wins their fights," Will says.

"Well that's good," Christina says and then looks down to check her watch. "I think that we're missing dinner. Do you want us to stay, Tris, or bring you back something?"

Tris shakes her head. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" I say. "We can just eat in here." I turn back to look at Sol and Serena. "Right, is that okay?"

"That's fine," Serena says.

"No," Tris says. "I just…I'm tired. Don't worry."

Christina, Will, and I stand but Al stays right where he is, shifting more onto the chair now the rest of us have vacated the space.

"I'll be right behind you guys," he says, "Go on ahead."

The three of us leave.

"She'll be fine," Christina says. It sounds more like she's trying to assure herself than us.

Will and I nod anyways. Tris is strong, maybe not physically but she's Dauntless on the inside. She doesn't have to act like Four or Eric for us to know how tough she is. It's just something that we all know.

"I can't stop thinking about what Al said," Will says. "I mean, he's right; we're supposed to be a family and stuff."

"Tell that to Peter," Christina says. "He doesn't exactly seem like a family man to me. Neither does Eric for that matter."

"Yeah but…" Will frowns. "but isn't that how it's supposed to be? Like, isn't that what people always tell you." I nod along with him.

"It's just something that people say," Christina says. "Sure I heard that from, like, the teachers and stuff; but people never sugarcoated stuff like that in Candor. It's a place that you live, and your life there is what you make it. Candor wasn't really one big happy family either, everyone had their own little packs and we all just lived together."

Oddly enough, this is the first I've heard of Candor in any sort of specifics. My sister lives there but she never talks about it, not really. She always says that she loves it there, but she never says very much beyond that.

"I guess that makes sense." Will shakes his head. "Right, I guess it's a little idealistic."

"A little idealistic," I repeat. I guess if I wanted family I should have gone to Amity. I know Erudite, and I know that it's nothing like that. Why would I expect anything more out of Dauntless?

"But we're gonna be fine," Christina says. "We've all got each other, the five of us. Who needs the rest of them?"

"Right," I say flatly. "Who needs them?"

_September 13th, Year 499 _

_Tris got matched up against Peter, it went about as well as anyone would have imagined. I mean, we all kept saying that she would be just fine because we all know just how strong she is but she got her ass kicked. Because of course she did. I don't know who decided that was a good idea, pit the second best fighter (though I write that very begrudgingly) against the tiny girl with virtually no muscle mass. Most of Tris' strength resides inside of her, it's the kind that propelled her off the roof and can't quite be measured by tests of strength or speed. _

_Me, well I went up against Will and won; though it wasn't easy. But as much as I would like to stay ahead in the rankings, part of me would much rather be like her. She can't quite live up to Eric's ridiculous standards, but there's no denying that she's Dauntless on the inside. I would give anything to belong like she does because I just can't. I don't know how to let go of the parts of me that are Erudite like she has let go of the parts of her that are Abnegation. Who have I ever been without Erudite, without their principles and values as my guiding force and what I compared myself against? I don't know how to just be Dauntless, I hardly know what it really looks like and I certainly don't know how to mimic it. Part of me still wants to be what everyone wants me to be, and part of me wants to do the exact opposite of that but I don't know how. I can't exactly do both; I guess the path of least resistance would be to just do neither, just keep moving forward and see where life takes me. But I am so sick of just coasting through life with no direction or purpose; I just want to be someone and be that knowing that I chose to be that way for myself and not because it was the path of least resistance, or because it was the only think that I felt like I could do, or because it was something that someone else wanted for me. _

_Theoretically, my existential crisis should wait until I'm done with initiation; provided I make it out of this alive and still a part of the faction, then I'll have all the time in the world to stress about the fact that I don't really know what I want for myself beyond the goals I've always felt was expected of me. My interest in politics is kind of complicated, I guess; it's genuine in the sense that I've grown up watching from the sidelines and knowing just how important it all is and how much the Faction Council does for the city but I've also felt that it was just what I was sort of fated for because that's what almost my entire family does. I know that I've said that I don't believe in fate, and I don't; I think that it's a half-assed excuse for hardly exercising any autonomy within one's own life. But I have always wanted to uphold my family's legacy, that is something that I am very keenly aware of how important it is. The best way to do that, I think, would be to rise as high as I can in Dauntless and that just so happens to be a leadership position; and not just any leadership position, I want to take over for Max one day. My entire family leads and I feel like I should to, because it's just what I've always wanted to do. Still, now that I have the chance to change that I'm scared to. I don't know of a better way to be like them, and maybe I shouldn't try because 'faction before blood' or whatever, but I hate that phrase. I don't want to be a total disappointment, I mean my parents have never really been very keen on Dauntless and so I'm sure my transferring here was not something that they approve of; but there has to be something that I can do that might help that. After all, Dauntless can't possibly be all Fours and Erics; brainless, heartless muscle. After all, every faction has something beautiful and worthwhile about it; and this was once Kira's home, how bad could it possibly be if it produced someone as wonderful as her? _

_I wonder how they're all doing, my friends. I'm sure that they're all just fine, they always knew exactly where they belonged in a way that I never did and refused to let any sort of fear stand in their way. I'm sure that Casey's loving Amity, I'm sure that she's happy; I just sometimes wish that I could be there with her. She is my oldest and closest friend, we share a bond that makes us practically family but now I have to come to terms with the fact that years from now we're going to begin to forget about each other. I have to face the fact that we're never going to be as close as we were, we probably won't ever even see each other again except for maybe in City Center in passing when we don't speak because she's just another Amity and I'm just another Dauntless. This girl who was my dearest friend, who knew every secret about me but one is nothing more than a stranger now. I'm supposed to make new friends, and I have, but I don't know if I'll ever really share a bond with Tris and the others that I did with Casey. There's just something special about growing up with someone that nothing can ever replace. _

_Eliza, I know, is going to be just fine. Eliza is strong and capable, she has more drive in her pinky than I have in my whole body. She belongs in Erudite just like she has always known and, in part, because she has always known. I wouldn't be surprised if Eliza became a department head or took on some other prestigious position. She's going to be great, and I'm never going to see it. Years from now I won't even care, it won't be any of my business whether I'm Dauntless or factionless because I'm not Erudite and most other factions don't give a shit about each other's in house politics. I'm as guilty of this as anyone else; I can't name the other three Dauntless leaders who are basically irrelevant outside of Dauntless' own government, I can't name any of the justices Minerva works with, or even the Abnegation Council members. I can name every Erudite department head and most of their family members though, however that second bit is really only because I've met them in person more than once. Most of them are friends (the word 'friends' is used in the loosest possible sense here) of my parents and in my sixteen years of life I have been dragged to many, many social events held by Erudite's rich and powerful. Those events are how I met Eliza, actually; her parents aren't department heads, but they're well respected in their field and also incredibly wealthy. For her, those events will finally become interesting as she rises to prominence and becomes both a part of the conversations and a topic of it. _

_Kira is going to be amazing; that's hardly even speculation, it's almost just fact. She's so legitimately and unapologetically fascinated by anything and everything that it makes her a textbook Erudite. She could do practically anything and she'll probably try pretty much everything. Her passion isn't for one specific subject, she doesn't have one singular talent, she doesn't have a 'niche'; Kira's passion is for learning as a whole. As long as there are things left in the world to learn about, you can bet that she'll always be right there studying them. She's the perfect Erudite, learning more simply because she can learn more and not out of any want for power or anything else. Kira is a near and dear friend of mine who I do wish that I'd gotten to have more time with. We met when we were thirteen and it was like a piece of a puzzle falling into place. Dauntless or not, she belonged with us; Casey, Eliza, and I. We might not have been the friends she spent the most time around or even the ones that she was supposed to have, but we understood her and she fit with us. And we knew her, I knew her and I cared about her; I wasn't allowed to bring her over to my house to hang out or even bring her into the Erudite sector because there were rules against that, but we hung out where we could and managed to be close without constant contact. Kira never spoke much of her experience with Dauntless; I don't really know why, maybe she just didn't think that we cared all that much especially the way that Erudite as a whole has a tendency to look down on the Dauntless in a way that I'm totally guilty of doing myself and feel genuinely bad for. Whatever her reasons, she didn't; though we sort of drew our own conclusions anyways. I assume, from the genuine and down to earth way that Kira had acted with us from day one, that she didn't really feel a lot or pressure to conform to that sort of Dauntless mold that all the other factions see. _

_That's what makes me think that there has to be something deeper; that it can't all be brutes and daredevils. I mean, there's the medical staff so that's something, right? I know that every faction is different, hell, haven't I said before that Erudite is far more complex than the emotionless machines that we're they're made out to be? People are complicated, groups of people even more so, and I think that on some level we all know that we're wrong about all the other factions. I don't really like Candor, I find their demeanor just generally kind of irritating, but I know that they're not all like that because I know Candor and former Candor who aren't. Christina and Al are both genuinely fun people to be around and not just a constant stream of drivel that's barely intelligible because they don't really bother to take the time to think about their words before they say them. I actually find a lot of their commentary to be funny rather than annoying. It's all just sort of complicated. I guess I should have figured that out by now; in retrospect it's sort of obvious. After all, both because of my brain thing (I still don't like even writing the word) and because I'm a person, I contain multitudes and contradictions. I am smart, and brave, and kind; I have all the benefits and probably most of the drawbacks of being those three things. I can't just be shoved into a single box because I'm going to do things in my life that will contradict those labels; I'm going to be afraid, I'm going to make stupid mistakes, I'm going to be mean to some people. It's just a thing that happens to me, I suppose I should just go ahead and get comfortable with it. God knows I've written about the issue enough, danced around it and treated the actual label with more caution than I have any swear word ever. Part of me feels like I'm being a little overdramatic about this, part of me feels like I am being exactly dramatic as I deserve to be given the fact that I've only very recently been informed that I have an anomaly that makes me separate from pretty much everyone else. Maybe that should make me feel special or unique or something, but it doesn't. Instead, I just feel like a pariah waiting to happen or like some sort of freak; I feel like an outsider because I am an outsider, because I can't fit like anyone else does. Those goddamn labels and boxes that no one can really fit into completely I extra cannot fit into. I saw the chart, Maria explained to me how aptitudes work; I know that there's supposed to be a single majority in the brain that rises a considerable amount above the rest and that brings with it all sorts of benefits and drawbacks, but they're common and understandable benefits and drawbacks. Me, I'm a grab-bag of who-the-hell-knows-what; maybe only some of the flaws and maybe all of them at once. I don't know what I am beyond just…undefinable. But I don't know how to convince myself that's a good thing, I don't think it is a good thing. I just want to live up to all of this potential that I'm supposed to have, I just want to be the best person that I can be, I just want to belong somewhere. _

_Initiation can check maybe two of those three boxes. No amount of target practice or sparring will ever make me purely Dauntless, will ever magically get rid of this _**_thing_**_that I'm going to have to deal with for the rest of my life because of some mutation in my genetic code or some shit. All it can do is give me a little boost up that ladder to the top that I so desperately want to climb. My biggest competition right now are Peter and Edward, they're the best of us (no matter how much I hate admitting that in Peter's case, trust me it's a lot). They're stronger than me, faster than me, larger than me, better fighters than me, better shots than me. Basically all that I have going for me is that I'm smarter than them. However, my intelligence isn't going to stop me from getting punched in the face. I guess that I'll just have to want it more than they do too; I'll have to practice until I can't get it wrong, I'll have to just keep practicing no matter how frustrating it all becomes. If only because it's a step toward my ambitions, if only because it will keep me from becoming factionless, if only because I've already decided that I want to be Dauntless more than I've ever wanted anything. _

_Four said that initiation will push us to our breaking point; well I refuse to be broken, not after only a week and a half of training. I'm sure that things will only become more difficult for us the longer that my class collectively refuses to break down. I'm sure that Four and Eric will only think of more devious shit to throw our way just because they can. But I have to just keep trying to keep my head down around Eric, because he's really the worse of the two, and survive. I'll have to get my shit together and quick, because I'll have to fight Peter eventually and I'm not sure that my pride will survive if I lose that fight. I'll just have to do the best that I can, because that's all I can do, and because there's no getting around the fact that I absolutely have to. _


	12. Chapter 12: Tracks

A week later is our field trip to the fence. We're all wiped from training; this whole five days straight of sparring is really kicking our collective asses. Even Edward is covered in bruises. Thankfully, the week passed without some sort of terrible and nearly fatal incident. Not to say that there haven't been injuries, we're literally beating each other into unconsciousness, of course there are going to be injuries. However, no one has been hung over the Chasm and Tris hasn't had to fight Peter again. Surprisingly enough, I haven't had to fight Peter either; though I'm sure I will soon. I've been trying to go in early most days and sometimes even after hours, though I don't do that second part very often at all because I do want to still be able to hang out to my friends. Though we're never especially energetic after training, we have tried to enjoy ourselves in the Pit and try to act like the Dauntless that we're trying to become. I must say, I'm still not entirely used to just the general atmosphere of it all; it's so different than everything I've ever known, but I guess that's just Dauntless in general.

We don't have to be at the tracks until eight-fifteen, but most of us wake up at six anyways because that's what we've gotten used to, with the exception of Tris. She's still recovering from her fight with Peter on top of the constant grind of day to day training. She's not doing so hot in her fights, mostly because she's constantly sore and has absolutely no time to recover. We're all pretty banged up, but Tris has been taking a beating pretty much since we started sparring. Almost everyone but her has managed to eke out at least one win. I don't really think that it's something that any of us really like, except for maybe Peter, I'm just not sure if I'll ever really get used to the idea of striking my friends and future faction members who are supposed to be like a family to me, who are supposed to replace my actual family, and for what? What is the point of having us fight until we're passed out on the mat? It's not fun for anyone really; I mean, I guess that Eric and Four might think that it's fun to watch, but it's not like anyone's really benefiting from this. I guess in theory the pressure of it all is just supposed to force a change in us that will make us dedicated to learning the techniques so that we aren't constantly winding up in the infirmary, but I think the exact same pressure comes with the constant knowledge that people are going to be cut. It's nerve wracking, knowing that I might lose out on my spot in Dauntless at the end of these first five weeks because I couldn't win enough fights. Erudite cuts people too, but the challenges were never physical and none of that even happened until the end. I'm not even sure how we're being scored so that I can adjust my habits to accommodate that to rack up the maximum amount of points possible to make up for my slightly subpar fighting skills.

_And there's the Erudite in me _, I think. _Good to know that's still around. Not. Better make sure that nothing close to that ever comes out of my mouth. _

The most terrifying part of being…_ that _is that I don't recognize how weird some of my thinking is until after I've thought it; which I find concerning to say the very least. At least when I mouth off it's with people that I know aren't all that important. Four's my initiation instructor, but for all of his faults I seriously doubt that he's going to fail me because he finds me to be mildly irritating. Eric though, I really try to stay out of his way as much as I can and when I can't I'm polite as humanly possible. After what Eric did to Christina for something as benign and understandable as forfeiting a fight she couldn't win, I don't want to imagine how he might react if I spoke to him the way that I speak to Four. He laughed when Four mentioned I was one of his 'problem students' but I don't ever want him to see for himself that I am. I am even wary about talking back to Four within an earshot of him, Four may not like Eric but I honest to god have no idea what Eric's relationship to Four is and I don't want to get myself in trouble with Eric by insulting Four.

Christina, Molly, Myra, and I all get ready in mostly silence. We don't talk to Molly much, Christina especially ever since the incident, but it's not like she makes any effort to befriend us either. I've already decided that I dislike Molly based on what she did to Christina and the fact that she associates with Peter, but I see no reason to be openly mean to her until the opportunity presents itself. I'm sure that she already knows I don't like her, as the Candor are pretty in tune with other people's emotions despite how tone deaf most of them act, and I'm sure that she's no fonder of me, I would rather that we go on silently hating each other rather than loudly. My hateful relationship with Peter (and basically most everypne's hateful relationship with Peter, because I know for a fact that Edward and Myra think he's an asshole too and the other initiates tend to avoid him whenever possible) is enough tension for the dorm room, I really don't think that his friends also need to get involved.

Today is the first day that I can wear makeup again and actually bother with my hair, because I won't sweat it all off or get punched in the face for the first time in two weeks. Though I know that this isn't technically a break, and I'm sure that Four will find a way to suck any traces of fun out of it, I'm still excited; it's still the first time that I've left the Dauntless compound as a Dauntless (well, Dauntless-in-training) and the first time I've had the full sun shine on my face in two and a half weeks. There are skylights in some of the public areas like the bridge over the Chasm and the Pit, but that's not really the same.

But as I'm getting ready, a thought occurs to me. Today is Jeanine's birthday, and this is really the first time that I haven't been around for that. Like I said, she's kind of part of our family; we care about that sort of thing and every year without fail my parents do a dinner thing for her that takes hours to prepare and to plan, but they still do it. I used to help frost the cake, because that was really the one thing that I was good at, and a few days in advance my mom or my dad and I would go out shopping for gifts. I miss her; I miss being around my family. I don't even have my phone to send her a quick text because I left that at home and I'm sure that even if I wanted to, it would probably be frowned upon because 'faction before blood'. It's still bullshit, I mean I can sort of appreciate wanting people to form a bone-sunk loyalty to their factions but I don't think that has to come at the expense of your family. I should know better than anyone that freedom and family don't cancel each other out; I've seen it happen with Mark and Minerva and now I'm experiencing it myself. They're still my siblings, they're still my parents' children, I still love them and they still love me. We see each other every year on Visiting Day even though that's only supposed to be a one or two time thing. It's not like other families don't do it; I know very specifically of a few of my parents' friends' children who, rather than their parents going out to see them on Visiting Day, they go back to Erudite. Despite what some would have us believe, continuing to love your family after the Choosing Ceremony is not quite the taboo that some people make it out to be. I wish that I could impress this on Al, who still sometimes cries at night. I feel so awful for him, but I know that he doesn't want us to comfort him. He's acknowledged that we can hear him, but I'm sure that he finds it at least mildly embarrassing. I really don't want to meddle in his personal life like that. Close as we're becoming, it's not really my place.

"You go on ahead." Christina waves me off in the direction of the dining hall when we get out into the hallway. We usually wait for each other and then Tris, Will, and Al so that we can all go to breakfast together.

Will comes out of the bathroom a minute later, seeming to have the same idea that I did with the makeup thing.

"I'm going to go check on Tris. Make sure that she's up and whatever, it might take a while."

"Al also said he'd catch up with us later," Will says.

Christina disappears into the dorm and I turn to Will as we start walking. "And then there were two."

"Gotta say, that eyeshadow really brings out the yellow in the bruise on your jaw," Will says, gesturing to my face.

"You're funny," I say in a deadpan voice. "I really like how your poorly done concealer almost manages to cover up your black eye."

Will chuckles. "Yeah, I know. If you think that you can do better, be my guest. I would seriously appreciate it."  
I roll my eyes but don't respond, mostly because I probably couldn't do better.

He gives me a proud smirk like he's won something. I guess in a way he has; my silence. As mean as Will and I pretend to be to each other, we really do get along exceptionally well. We kind of just click, like how I do with the others but also in a way that I don't feel like I ever have to explain anything to him because he just gets it. We have exactly the same sense of humor, that deadpan bite that Christina took to pretty quickly but Al and Tris understand but don't really participate in. They're too sweet for the teasing insults, and in turn I try to avoid insulting them because I remember when Tris and I were just getting to know each other (though in a lot of ways we still are) and she thought I was serious about her not knowing anything and that it was some sort of dig at her, and how it seemed to genuinely upset her. I don't want to do that again; Tris is my friend and I can understand how that sort of humor wouldn't translate with people who have never encountered it before.

But Will and I just kind of feed off of each other's energy, and yeah sometimes we sort of slip off into our own conversation totally separate from the group because we share experiences just like Christina and Al do. It's just another example of how our birth factions never really leave us, and how we can't just be expected to let go of it all the moment we transfer out. There are aspects of my life and parts of me that exist specifically because I was Erudite and Will, Edward, Myra, and the other Erudite transfers too I guess – though I've never really bothered to talk to any of them – can understand that in a way that the others can't. Nothing against them, of course, they have their own unique and shared experiences specific to Candor and Abnegation respectively that I could never hope to gain a full grasp on.

Will nods. "That's one of the things I love about you, I never have to explain that I'm joking. Mostly because you're a lot meaner to me than I am to you."

I roll my eyes. "What a convoluted way of admitting that I'm smarter than you."

"In your very egotistical dreams." He gives me a light shove.

"Ooh, '_ egotistical' _. Wow, you used a big word." I laugh and shove him back.

"Oh shut up." He snickers. "We can't all be walking dictionaries; and you, dear friend of mine, are not even close to the," he clears his throat and starts talking in a voice obviously meant to mimic the high society Erudite, "proper and well-spoken lady," his voice drops back to normal, "that you think you are. We're all Dauntless now, and if you've ever heard any of them speak I'm sure that you know there's no room for anything like that here."

"Won't stop me from trying," I say. "I'm not about to reduce my vocabulary to pebbles because fucking Four has never opened a book in his life."

"You're so goddamn mean, you know that right?" We enter the dining hall and move through the line to get our food. "Like, I know that it's no secret but you will literally jump on the people you don't like for everything at every opportunity."

I shrug as I pick up a muffin. "If I see an opening than I'm going for it. It isn't even a thing with him specifically; Peter and Eric are just as easy to make fun of, he just happened to be the first name to pop into my head while saying that particular sentence."

"Hey, you don't have to justify yourself to me. It's just an observation. Better them than me, right?"

I nudge him with my shoulder. "The difference is that I actually like you."

"Aw." Will touches his hand to his heart, nearly splashing his coffee on his shirt. "I'm touched. I can almost see the ice around your heart starting to melt."

I roll my eyes. "I'm already regretting that statement."

We sit down at the table next to each other, both of us propping our feet up on the chairs across from us in near unison.

"So," he says, "excited for our first time outside the compound as Dauntless?"

"Excited to not be breathing the same stale air anymore. I mean it's cool I guess, but I don't really expect to be stuck out guarding the fence at any point."

"Oh really?" Will tips his chair back on its hind legs and takes a sip of his coffee. "Why am I not surprised? So what do you 'expect' to do?"

"Leadership." I lower my voice, "I'd actually like Eric's job if I can find a way to swing it."

"I'm pretty sure that he would disembowel you if he heard you say that."

"Who's disemboweling people?" Al appears with a tray in his hands. He sits a few seats down from me.

"Eric, if Mimi keeps openly talking about the fact that she's gunning for his job," Will says and Al almost spits out his orange juice in response.

"Is that why you're so nice around him?" he says after he swallows. "Because you don't want him to know?"

"I figure that I better make a good impression now before he's my boss. There's plenty of time to be mean later."

"Can't wait to see that," Will says. "Dude's going to mount your head on the wall of his office."

I shrug. "You have such little faith in me and I am, frankly, very insulted by it."

"That's not true." Will takes another bite of his food and the uses his fork to gesture at me. "I think you'll make a great leader if you somehow manage to avoid getting disemboweled and/or decapitated by the guy who's job you want."

"Thanks?" I shoot him a confused look over my coffee. "If that was indeed a compliment?"

Will nods. "It was."

"Gee," I say flatly. "Thanks."

"You are welcome." He grins as he takes another bite of his potatoes.

When we're done with breakfast we head up to the train tracks. We're early, save for the few other initiates milling around. I'm learning quickly that there's absolutely nothing to do in the mornings at Dauntless, it's a good thing that I'm so dedicated to training otherwise so much of my mornings would just be spent standing around doing nothing. I sit down on a crate next to the building and let a small smile spread across my face. It's nice to be above ground again, to look up and see the bright blue sky and breathe in the fresh air. It's cold for September, or maybe I've just grown used to the heated Dauntless compound.

"Where are they?" Will puts his hands on his hips and looks around. "They should have been here by now."

"Do you think something's wrong?" Al says. "Should we go check on them?"

"Guys, chill. I'm sure they're fine," I say. "Tris has been pretty messed up since her fight with Peter. I'm sure that she's just kind of ache-y."

Not a minute later, Tris and Christina emerge from the compound right as the train arrives.

"What took so long?" Will shouts over the noise of the train.

"Stumpy legs over here is going full old lady on us." Christina jabs her thumb at Tris.

Tris rolls her eyes. "Oh shut up."

We all break into a slow run together. Four jumps into one of the last cars and I suppose that we're all meant to get in that one too. I notice him lingering almost in the doorway, catching Myra as she slips and pulling her up. It's a step up from the last time we jumped on, I guess now that we're all here they really don't want us missing the train.

Behind me, I can hear Tris already breathing heavily. It's not exactly fun for any of us, we're all sore after two and a half weeks of training, but she very recently got the hell beaten out of her. This must be killing her.

I jump on after Will; it's much easier this time probably because I'm not running on a platform that's two feet wide with a hundred or so people and in high heels. Doesn't stop Will from giving me shit about it though.

"Ay!" He claps me on the shoulder. "Look who made it on without twisting her ankle."

"I'm going to fight you," I say flatly.

"You already did, remember?"

"I'll fight you again."

Al helps Tris on, basically leans out the door and plucks her off the ground, setting her back down once she's safely inside the train.

"How are you feeling?" I ask her.

She gives a halfhearted groan in response and gazes warily at Peter, who is giving her a very predatory grin.

"Feeling okay there?" he says while trying not to laugh. "Or are you a little…_ Stiff _." He howls with laughter at his own joke and then Drew and Molly join in.

"We are all awed by your incredible wit," Will says with zero inflection to his voice whatsoever. "Truly you must be god's gift to sass."

"Are you sure you don't belong in Erudite, Peter?" Christina joins in. "I hear they don't object to sissies."

Without thinking about it at all I say, "Oh come on, Christina, I think it's pretty damn obvious he's not cut out for Erudite; I mean you can count his IQ on a single hand. Erudite does have standards after all. But comedy in general…his complete joke of an existence could probably get a chuckle out of the audience."

Peter's upper lip curls. "Maybe if you ran like your mouth you'd be doing better in training, Ice Queen."

"Peter, I don't really think that you're in any position to talk about anyone being better when you're so disliked across the board."

"Am I going to have to listen to you guys bicker all the way to the fence?!" Four snaps before Peter can retort.

We don't say another word for a while but Christina laughs under her breath, only growing worse at hiding it when she notices Peter, Molly, and Drew's glares.

Eventually, Tris breaks the silence. She turns to us and says, "What do you think is out there? Beyond the wall, I mean."

"Wind and solar farms," Will says. "Actual farms."

"No but," she makes a gesture like she's throwing something, "way out there. Past all of that."

Christina wiggles her fingers. "Monsters!"

"Nothing probably," I guess. "No civilization, no life; just a whole lot of empty space."

"But then what would we need the guards for?" Tris says. "If it's really just a bunch of cattle, crops, and solar panels then what's the point of having a whole team of people watching it all the time?"

"Well we didn't even really have most of the guards out by the wall until like five years ago, remember?" Will says. "Don't you remember when most of Dauntless police used to patrol the factionless sector?"

Tris and I both nod. The choice was left up to the Faction Council alone and I remember my mother being less than pleased with the outcome, something about it being a waste of resources or something. She's probably right, but I don't mention any of that now.

"Oh right," Will says to Tris. "You probably saw the factionless all the time, right?"

"Why do you say that?" she says, suddenly defensive.

"Because you had to pass the larger part of the factionless sector to get to school, right?" As he explains, Tris seems to soften.

Christina snorts. "What did you do, memorize a map of the city for fun?"

"Of course," Will says, his eyes flicker over to me. "Right, Mimi?"

"Oh no." I laugh. "You're on your own in this one, you fucking nerd."

He rolls his eyes. "Yeah. I forgot, you were probably swallowing entire dictionaries whole; my bad."

"You two are both nerds." Christina shakes her head.

Our conversation is cut short as the train comes to a stop, the breaks squealing and all of us lurching forward. Most of us manage to keep our balance, but Will, who was leaning against the wall, almost falls over and Christina tries to catch him but her smaller stature leaves her unable to right him on his feet. He caught himself with his hands behind her neck and she grins.

"Careful."

"Oh," Will dramatically closes his eyes and puts his hand to his forehead. "I'm swooning. Thank you, fair Lady Christina, for–" She lets go and he shrieks but Al catches him at the last second.

"Cool it on the theatrics maybe," he says with a laugh as he rights Will on his feet.

"An astute point, Sir Al."

"Shut up."

We all get off under an awning. Out here there's practically nothing, just a lot of field and a near forest of overgrown flora that's been there for so long it's little more than just another part of our environment. Ahead of us is the wall, which is even taller than the Hub. The bottom half is made of solid concrete and the top is metal and wire with gangplanks running across it. I'd imagine that the metal must have once been shiny gray and new, but five hundred years have rendered it a tired rust color. That said, it's not anywhere close to being in disrepair. Most of the guards are around the upper part of the wall, little black dots high above us, but we're near the gate as well where about eight surly looking Dauntless stand, all straightening as they notice us. The gate is twice the size of my house and that same rust color as the top half of the wall. I can't imagine how it ever opens, but I know that it must every so often so that the Amity farmers and Erudite technicians can check up on the setups out there.

"Follow me," Four says. He leads us up toward the gate, none of the guards speak as we approach; they hardly acknowledge we're even here at all, they just stare off into space.

"If you don't rank in the top fifteen at the end of initiation than it's likely you will end up out here," he says, walking backwards so that he can look at us as he talks and a not so small part of me hopes that he trips. Sue me for being a little petty. "Once you become a fence guard there are a few opportunities for advancement but not much. It's mostly just things like going out on patrols beyond the wall or accompanying the farmers and techs that have to go out. For-"

"Wait," Will interrupts him and Four not at all subtly rolls his eyes. "Patrols for what purpose?"

"I guess you'll find out if this is where you wind up. As I was saying, for the most part those who guard the fence when they're young continue to do so into the rest of their adult lives. If it comforts you, some of them insist that the job isn't as bad as it seems; it's steady and not all that difficult."

"At least we won't be driving busses or cleaning up other people's messes like the factionless," Christina mutters.

"Your Candor is showing," I whisper back and she glares at me but smiles when she does.

"What rank were you?" Peter says.

I don't expect him to give an answer, going off of the conversation I had with him my fist night in Dauntless the guy seems to enjoy being cryptic and vague for no discernable reason. I'm surprised for more than one reason when he says, "I was first."

"And you chose to do this?" Peter says incredulously. "Why didn't you get a government job?"

Though I hate to admit it, I can actually agree with Peter on this one thing. The ways that leadership is better than training a bunch of teenage idiots are pretty obvious.

"I didn't want one," he says flatly.

Okay, that's actually understandable. Politics really isn't for everyone and I can't possibly imagine Four doing especially well in that environment. Eric is bad enough, but the thought of Four sloughing through an ocean of paperwork and exchanging niceties with other prominent faction members, dressed to the nines and a smile plastered on his face, is almost laughable.

Me though, I would do anything to get there. I would give anything to be one of the greats and it's why I'm so determined to do well during initiation. I can't help but be enchanted by the idea of it all, though I haven't got a clue what sort of version of that life Dauntless might hold for me. But more than that, I just feel like there's something that I can offer this world. I want to help people but not as a police officer or anything, I want to make an impact that will last.

We stop up next to the gate and one of the guards gestures for us to move back. They punch in a code and activates some sort of mechanism that opens up the massive gate. Upon it rising out of the ground I can clearly see it's thicker than I am and there's a place where it's worn into the ground from resting there over the centuries. Two vehicles pass through, a silver car that then immediately accelerates away from us, and a truck with an open back.

A man with a straw hat and beard gets out of the driver's seat and begins talking to one of the guards. In the back of the truck other Amity sit on crates talking and laughing. Most of them are young, my age, maybe even this year's initiate class. But none of them are Casey.

"Mimette?" My eldest brother, Mark, stands up and stares down at me. He jumps down from the truck bed and walks over to me. It's been a little while since I've seen Mark long enough to actually speak to him. Nine years ago he left Erudite for Amity and now he's the faction representative. He's another part of that legacy that I just have to live up to.

"Hey, Mark." He hugs me before I can stop him. I'm aware that there are people watching me, and that faction before blood is kind of a big deal. But Mark is a faction representative, I don't exactly think that anyone's going to call him out.

"What have you been up too?" he asks when he lets go of me, but I remain in his shadow. Mark is really tall, almost a full foot taller than I am, he might be pretty intimidating if he weren't such an easy going and positive person.

I shrug. "Initiation, uh, obviously."

He gives my upper arm a light squeeze and I have to fight the urge to wince. "Your arms are starting to feel like Minerva's."

I chuckle. Minerva would have a much easier time in Dauntless than me; because she'd be pretty adept at the physical stuff, but also because she has less patience for bullshit than I do and is considerably more intimidating than I am.

"Mimette," Mark tips his head to the side, a slightly concerned look on his face, "is everything going alright."

I force a smile, one far more confident than the way that I feel. "Just fine."

"Mimette?" A very, very annoying voice repeats right on my heels. "It's that a little uppity for someone who looked like they crawled out of a ditch."

I all but roll my eyes into the back of my head and turn around slowly to face Peter, who is smirking in a sort of way that makes me want to punch him.

"Wow," I drawl. "_ 'Uppity _,' how impressive, Peter. You used a big word _and _managed to string more than ten words together in a sentence. Keep working at it and maybe someday you'll be off giving speeches about the meaning of life and generally enlightening mankind."

"Mimette." Mark puts his hands on my shoulders and smiles down at me. "Don't." Then he turns that smile on Peter, but it's cold and unnatural looking. "You must be one of Mimette's fellow initiates. I'm Mark, her older brother; and you are?"

Peter scoffs. "Suddenly need big brother to protect you?"

I move out of Mark's grip, wishing that my cheeks didn't flush the way that they do. "No. Don't you have something better to do than bother me, like go kick puppies or something?"

"Now, now there's no need to be rude." Mark is still smiling but he looks like he could deck Peter. He takes a step closer and the shadow that he casts passes over Peter. "I don't think that I caught your name."

I guess that Peter finds it as unsettling as I do, because he leaves without another word.

"Mark," calls the older man with the beard, "we're leaving."

Mark hugs me again quickly. "I love you, Mimette. I'll see you on Visiting Day."

I hug him back this time. "I love you too. If you see Casey Diarmond tell her that, uh…that I send my love."

We part and he climbs back into the truck, where one of the younger girls begins strumming a banjo. I watch them as they drive away, and only when they're hardly more than a blip on the horizon do I remember that I never even got the chance to mention to Mark that I changed my name.

"Who was Big Mc-Large-Huge?" Christina walks up next to me.

"My brother." I'm still staring off into space, but out of the corner of my eye I notice Four glaring at me over Tris' head as he talks to her. He must not have approved of the conversation, not that I actually care in any capacity.

"_ That's _your brother?" Christina gives me a quizzical look. We begin to walk to the train as Four waves us back.

"One of them," I say. "I've got two." As much as it shouldn't, it feels like a bit of the weight in my chest has been lifted. It was just so nice to see Mark again, to just be reminded that no matter how far away we are our family is never really gone. Honestly it was kind of something that I needed; I still feel a little bit homesick and I do wish that I could be back in Erudite to spend time with Jeanine.

Christina looks at me, still looking a little confused. "You're not going to get that tall, are you?"

I laugh; and for once I don't bother to forcibly remind myself that I'm supposed to be happy here. I just laugh and let my mixed emotions stir around inside of me. I take one last look back at the fence before getting back on the train, and just like that our little day in the sun is over.


	13. Chapter 13: Tradition

_September 23__rd __, Year 499_

_I had to fight Molly today. I would like to say that fighting her was just another round of sparring and that I didn't feel anything while doing it, but that would be a lie. In a way I did kind of let my anger over what she did to Christina drive me. I wasn't as brutal as she was, not even close, but I wasn't exactly nice. Though I suspect that's exactly what Eric and Four want out of us; they want us to be merciless and fierce, lacking in basic compassion for our fellow initiates and just fellow human beings in general. But that's not me, I can't just let go of my compassion. Angry at her as I was, I have no desire to hurt Molly in any serious way. It sucks to lose a fight, it's a blow to your pride and also just a lot of pain you'll have to deal with for days to come. I've won and lost a few fights, I know what it feels like to be on both ends. I've been fortunate that I haven't quite been beaten like Tris and Christina have, but I don't think that I could ever bring myself to hurt someone like that. I don't like Molly by any stretch of the imagination, but I won't make her suffer; she doesn't deserve that._

_Even though it's been almost a month since I began my time here in Dauntless, I still haven't become more comfortable with the idea of fighting and knocking out my fellow initiates. I can appreciate learning to fight both as a useful skill and an integral part of Dauntless culture, but it just doesn't sit right with me. I know that Christina's right and it's really idealistic, but your faction is supposed to be your family. You devote everything you have and everything you are to this community of people because you share the same convictions that they do and in turn they take you in without judgements. Who you were ceases to matter, all that matters now is who you are now and who you can be. Honestly that's kind of what drew me here in some ways. No one here knows the person that I was and that means that I can be whoever I want. I don't have to be the perfect daughter or the perfect person. I don't have to do anything that I don't want to and in theory I could abandon all those dreams that I used to have and the pressure that I feel to live up to my family's name and just chase down adventure wherever that leads me. It's all up to me now and sometimes that terrifies me and sometimes it's the best thing that ever happened to me. If I wanted to, I could just not care about anything that I used to and let it all go. I could take faction before blood to heart and just disappear from my family. I would never do that, of course, I love them more than I can possibly say; more than factions, more than money or power, more than my own life. There is nothing in this world that I wouldn't do for them and that they wouldn't do for me. We're all stuck with each other, Minerva used to say, now and forever. Maybe that makes me a faction traitor; maybe that makes me the exact kind of dangerous that Maria warned me I was, but I honestly don't really care all that much. I'm always going to love my family, nothing could ever possibly take that from me. If that makes me some freak; than consider me the freakiest._

_I don't really mean that. I think that there will always be a part of me that wants to fit here in Dauntless like all the others do, to just be another piece of the puzzle that falls into place. But there will always be parts of me that wonder what might have been too; with Casey and Mark in Amity, filled with nothing but carefree joy and far from any sort of violence or pain; back in Erudite with my parents, the twins, and all the people that we're they're tied to. I would have gone through initiation with Eliza and Kira and we would have helped each other survive; no matter how bad it got it would always be the three of us._

_Maybe I'd be happy in either of those places and maybe I wouldn't; but I'm here, in Dauntless, and I can't change that. Maybe I don't even really want to, because if I hadn't come here than I never would have met Tris, or Al, or Will, or Christina, or Myra, or Edward. I would have never gotten to have them as my close friends and realize just how fast friendships can blossom when it feels like it's just you and them with your backs all up against the wall and your only choice is to help each other out. I would never have gotten to experience as it really is; loud, wild, and chaotic but ultimately so very beautiful. I might never have developed this beginning of a steel backbone or this person who thinks about all these opportunities that the me before transferring would never have even considered. We're all different people since jumping into that net, and I think that we become a little more different every day; less our parents' children and our birth factions' dependents, and more the people that we're meant to be._

_I still don't believe in fate. 'Meant to be' is such a bullshit concept, nothing's ever really set in stone and I think that my presence here is proof of that. But I think that all of us have an idea of the person that we want to be, the Dauntless that we want to be, and as initiates we inch closer to that goal as we become more immersed in Dauntless living. As for who that person actually is, who I want to be; I just don't know. I kind of have a vague idea what I want to do with my life but I've yet to cement what sort of person I want to be aside from just someone who helps other people, someone who makes other people happy._

_I–_

I don't get to finish my sentence because Four sticks his head in and turns out the lights. When he's gone I slowly uncurl from the position I was in and tuck my journal beneath my mattress. I would still rather not have anyone else finding it, especially since it's something that I brought from Erudite, so I have to be sort of careful about when I take it out and put it away. It doesn't have any sort of identifying marks, it's just a navy hardcover book, but it's not like any of the other initiates are especially into reading or that I even know where I would find a book like this in Dauntless.

I'm sitting up with my back against the wall staring off into space, not quite ready to lay down and fall asleep but with nothing to do, when the door bursts open again and people with flashlights stream in.

"Everybody up!" Eric roars.

I get to my feet slowly, sighing quietly. So much for my peaceful night I guess. Most of the Dauntless are older and I don't recognize them, but I do spot Four among them.

Christina and I share a look across the darkened room, I can barely see her eyes but I know she's looking at me. She's wearing only an oversized shirt that barely falls to her mid-thighs. She crosses her arms over her chest and glares at Eric when his eyes move from Tris to her.

"You have five minutes to get dressed and meet us by the track," Eric says, the light from the flashlights makes his black eyes look reflective and monstrous. "We're going on another field trip."

And just like that, they're all gone. All that fanfare for a fifteen second conversation.

We all begin rushing around, not one of us wishing to be even a second late out of fear of crossing Eric. Even Peter, who supposedly fears nothing, was startled by the loud entrance.

I weave in between the adult Dauntless still crowding the Pit despite the fact that it's nearly midnight. Though I'm sure that that will be me in less than a year, at least there seems to be more to do for those who are not initiates. As I walk beside Will, Christina and Tris somewhere behind us, I try to pull my hair back. It won't look very good, but I have had many days since beginning my Dauntless training in which I have had to forego fashion in favor of function. This is one of those times.

The other Dauntless members don't seem at all surprised by the crowd of teenagers pushing their way through their ranks half ready and most still kind of half asleep. In fact, a few of them hoot as we pass them, or shout actual words that I can't make out over the dull roar of the rest of the Pit.

We make it up to the tracks right behind the slowest Dauntless initiates, the older Dauntless are also hanging around in their own little clusters. Some look like they're in their early twenties while others can't be a day younger than sixty, but nonetheless they all have that air of Dauntless spirit around them. That loud and boisterous but joyful attitude that was one of the reasons I used to watch the Dauntless students.

'_ Age doesn't matter in Dauntless _,' I remember Four saying on the night that I met Eric. He meant that in the context of who can take jobs or not, but I also think that for the Dauntless no one's ever too old to be wild and adventurous. It's kind of cool I guess; for the most part the face of Dauntless seems to just be a lot of loud young people, but there's older Dauntless and that will be me someday. Always young at heart, and apparently in really good shape if they can still jump on the trains.

"What fresh hell do you think they've arranged for us this time?" Will says.

I shrug. "Knowing Eric it could just be a game where he drops us all in a field and hunts us down one by one."

Al giggles. "A literal field trip."

I blame how funny I find that on the fact that I'm basically asleep standing up.

A circle of light appears in the distance, though most of the initiates stop their conversations the older Dauntless don't even seem to notice it. Only when the train draws much closer do they begin jogging along it, chatting casually all the while.

We all crowd into one of the last train cars, including the older Dauntless there have to be at least fifty of us and everyone is crammed against each other but I manage to stick close to the cluster that is my friend group.

"Alright," Four says, and when he speaks most of the noise quiets. "We'll be dividing into two teams to play capture the flag. Each team will have an even mix of members, Dauntless-born initiates, and transfers. One team will get off first and find a place to hide their flag. Then the second team will get off and do the same." The car sways but he doesn't. "This is a Dauntless tradition, so I suggest you take it seriously."

"What do we get if we win?" someone from the crowd shouts.

Four raises his eyebrows. "That sounds like a question someone not from Dauntless would ask. You get to win of course."

Eric reaches into one of the many duffel bags that the Dauntless members helped carry onto the train and pulls out a black gun with a long, thin barrel.

"Because we all want you alive," Eric glances away for a second, "…to an extent, you'll be playing with paintballs and paintball guns. I hope you've all been paying attention during target practice. Dauntless takes this ritual _very _seriously."

Another Dauntless interjects, an older woman with a tattoo above and beneath her eye. "The paintballs sting like a bitch but it should be nothing for you…" she giggles, "soon to be Dauntless warriors." The man next to her snorts, elbowing her in the ribs.

"Four and I will be your team captains." Eric looks at Four. "Let's divide up the transfers first, shall we?"

All I can do is hope that I get to be on the same team as my friends. I won't get picked first, I know that much, but I would really rather not be on Eric's team. Four's team isn't exactly appealing to either but for the most part I think that Four's just annoying, I wouldn't put it past Eric not to shoot any one of his team members if he found them too irritating and I would rather not walk on eggshells this whole game.

"You go first," Four says.

Eric shrugs. "Edward."

Four leans back against the wall of the train and scans the crowd of transfers with little interest. I'm sure he isn't especially eager to have to be dealing with any one of us; we're his 'problem students,' as I recall him saying.

"I want the Stiff," he says and a snicker runs through the car, from the normal jerks in our class, to the Dauntless-born initiates, to the members.

"Got something to prove?" Eric says.

"Something like that," Four says, keeping with his habit of almost never giving anyone a straight answer regarding anything. "Your turn."

"Peter."

"Christina."

"Molly."

"Will."

"Drew."

Four looks the remaining initiates including me and then sighs, it's drawn out and frankly just a little bit overdramatic even by his standards. "Ice Queen."

It would really be nice if he would actually use my name at some point. I know that he knows it, I've seen him write it out on the board when he's matching up fights. He's just intentionally being an asshole.

"Al." Al gets a sort of miserable look on his face as he goes to stand among Eric, Peter, and friends. He's too nice for them and I doubt that they're going to be especially kind to him given that he's friends with Tris.

"Myra." She looks sadly at Edward and he blows her a kiss. She giggles and returns the gesture.

They divide up the rest of the transfers, then the Dauntless-born, then the members. I look around at my other team members and notice that we all have a few commonalities, or rather we're all the exact opposite of the people that Eric picked. Eric picked the ones that are strong and large, from Edward with his lean muscle to the Dauntless members that look like they could snap me in half. My team on the other hand, is made up mostly of people who all look a little different; but from what I know of my fellow transfers all the ones that Four picked are all pretty light on their feet and quick thinkers. I'd imagine that that extends to the others that he picked, Four wants us to work smarter rather than harder. That's actually rather clever of him; maybe there's a few lights on up in that brain of his after all.

"You can get off second," Eric says to Four when everyone's been sorted onto a team.

"Don't do me any favors." Four very nearly smiles. "You know that I don't need them to win."

"No, I know that you'll lose no matter when you get off." The reply obviously irks Eric. "Take your scrawny team and get off first."

The train dips and we're parallel with the ground, that's when my team jumps off. I manage to do it a little gracefully, unlike the only other chance I had to try when I jumped onto the roof. We land in a field not all that far from the marsh or the forest, but a ways from any faction's territory. The night is cloudy but the bright full moon illuminates the space just enough for us all to walk without turning on our flashlights.

Four's voice draws my attention away from scanning our environment and back to the people around me. "Okay. Initiates, you're all taking the lead on this one; this is for you so it's up to you all to come up with a hiding place and how we go after the other team. We may not be Erudite, but mental preparedness is the most important part of your training, arguably the most important part."

"When your team won, where did you put the flag?" One of the Dauntless-born asks.

"Telling you wouldn't really be in the spirit of the exercise, Marlene," Four says. "This is supposed to be a test of your skills, not mine."

"Come on, Four." He brushes her hand off of his arm, unmoved by her pleading.

"Navy Pier," another Dauntless-born answers for him. "My brother was on the winning team too. They kept the flag at the carousel."

"So let's go there then," Will suggests.

No one objects, so that's the direction that we head off in. In true Dauntless fashion, we're not exactly quiet about it; members and initiates alike talk casually, the idea that it might give us away not seeming to bother them. Even Four up ahead is talking to one of the members; possibly a friend, I didn't think he had those.

"We're close to the Erudite sector, right?" Christina bumps Will's shoulder with her own. I remember him saying that he memorized a map of the city for fun, so out of everyone he would know.

"Uh, yeah. It's south of here." There's a hint of longing in his voice that I can understand. No matter how much bravado we all put on, we're all a little homesick.

When we get up onto the bridge we're able to see it across the marsh. I know this place, a lot of the engineering research and development facilities have their backs to the marsh. I took a tour of a few of them for school once; they're just giant warehouses basically with walls that don't even go an eighth of the way up to the ceiling which makes it feel more like a maze than a building. Some of the taller projects could be seen over the walls, explaining why they need all the space. Because of the surprising lack of windows in those buildings, it's just a line of black shadows and then the hazy glow cast by the rest of the buildings, rising higher and higher but Erudite Tower being the brightest and tallest among them.

I'm closer to my family there than I have been in a while. I try to imagine what they might be doing right now; working probably. It's not even midnight; with me no longer at home my father no longer has a reason to leave work early and so he's probably working too, holed up in either his office in Erudite Tower or the Hub.

I take a breath, letting my mind linger on my family for another second and then pushing all those thoughts away. Now is really not the time for that, now I have to focus. I turn away from the view and begin to walk more quickly. As I do, I catch Will's eye and we share a look of mutual understanding. We were both Erudite once, he's missing it just as much as I am but as transfers we have to prove that we are nothing but happy to be here, so it goes mostly unsaid.

Once we cross the bridge, the field changes abruptly into an expanse of broken glass and crumbling buildings as far as the eye can see. Nothing this far out of the way is very well tended to, there's no reason to waste the resources on it; it's not like anyone's using it.

Marlene takes out her flashlight and turns it on, brightening the path for all of us as well as exposing just how much crushed glass it really on the ground.

"Scared of the dark, Mar?" the Dauntless-born who suggested the navy pier teases.

"If you want to step on broken glass, Uriah, be my guest." But she turns it off anyways.

I once remember my brother making some offhand snide comment about Dauntless seeming to have a hardline aversion to efficiency; that they can never just do anything the easy way because they act like they perpetually have something to prove. I think I'm starting to see where he's coming from on that. There's nothing especially brave about walking around in the dark with broken glass all over the ground, but the Dauntless just do it because…because it's fun for them I guess.

A break in the buildings reveals a strip of land that just out over the marsh and rising up from it is a massive red and white wheel with little gondolas hanging from the spokes. Or at least it was red and white, most of the paint has chipped off to give way to rust and grime.

"People used to ride that thing," Will says. "For _fun _. Can you imagine?"

Tris shrugs. "Those people must have been Dauntless.

"Yeah but like a lame version of Dauntless," Christina asks. "A Dauntless Ferris wheel wouldn't have cars. You would just hang on tight with your hands, and good luck to you."

"Bet we could hide the flag up there," I mutter. "Like in the spokes or one of the cars or something."

"Yeah, and you're going to be the one to climb that thing and put it up there?" Will says incredulously.

"Oh absolutely not. No, do I look like I have a fucking death wish?"

"You act like it with the way that you talk sometimes," Christina interjects.

I chuckle. "I keep telling you guys that they're not actually going to kill us." But after I speak the words I look at Christina again, her arms crossed and a doubtful look on her face, and suddenly I'm not so sure.

We keep walking and soon the broken buildings turn into simply crumbling ones. Their doors are shut tightly and from the shadows that I can make out inside, or lack thereof, they're empty. It looks as abandoned as the last part that we walked through, but whoever used to live here clearly left at their own leisure; leaving their homes to slowly erode as time wears on.

"Dare you to jump into the marsh," Christina says to Will.

"Oh yeah," he drawls. "I'll get right on that." He smirks and shakes his head. "If you want to see what's down there so bad, you do it."

We reach the carousel finally, which is just as old and weathered as the rest of this place. The plastic horses that are still connected to their poles have chipping paint if not outright pieces missing from them.

Four gathers everyone up around him and pulls the flag out of his pocket; it's fluorescent orange and looks like it's been dipped in glitter.

"In ten minutes, the other team will jump and pick their location," Four says. "They'll be a fair distance away from us in any direction, but you should all use that time to be formulating your strategy."

"Us members will do whatever you tell us to, but _try _not to lead us straight into a trap," says a woman with purple hair that has pink streaks running through it.

Will takes the flag from Four. "Some people should stay here and guard, and some people should go out and scout the other team's location."

"Yeah? You think?" Marlene raises her eyebrows as she snatches the flag away from him. "Who put you in charge, transfer?"

"No one, but _someone _has to take the lead on this."

"Maybe we should develop a more defensive strategy," Christina suggests. "Wait for them to come for us and then take them out, follow the people back to their hiding spot."

"That's the sissies way to do it," Uriah says. "I say we go all in; hide the flag so well that they can't find it and then storm their base."

"Okay yeah, we'll get right on that," Will says. "Because obviously they won't be just as well hidden as we are."

"Well, most of the people on that team aren't exactly what I would call the sharpest knives in the drawer." I nudge Will with my elbow.

Everyone has a different idea for how we should go about winning the game, which I guess is better than no one having any ideas, but it still makes it sort of hard to plan. I actually don't have much of anything; there's got to be something that satisfies the core ideas of everyone's plans but I don't know what that might be.

Bored of the argument after only a few minutes, I walk away from the crowd and sit down on the old faux-wood of the carousel floor, as far away from Four as I can get while still being on the same side of the carousel. I'm still listening, but at this point I have nothing to add and see no point in standing around and listening to everyone argue.

They're west of us, somewhere within a two mile radius, but that's all that we really know. All that we can rule out is that they're not hiding anywhere close to the way that we came but that isn't really saying a lot. We really can't do much of anything without finding their flag first, not if we want to be smart about it. But then again, I think be now I should have figured out that the Dauntless don't really give a shit about going doing things the smart way.

If I had to make a guess about Eric's team, I would say that as soon as they hid their flag they'd be out looking for us. Maybe one or two people would stay behind to guard, but for them the best defense is a good offense.

Christina's right, we should wait for them to come and find us and then follow them back; but Will is also right, we should try and split it so that there's still enough people left behind to defend the flag because they're weakness is that they aren't going to think to defend themselves. But a lot of the Dauntless-born want a full frontal attack; much like Eric's team probably, they don't give a shit about defense they just want to go and fight.

But that doesn't matter if we don't know where their goddamn flag is.

I look around to find Tris, who also walked away from the argument, and see if she has any ideas. But she's gone, and so is Four, and I really hope that they're not doing something reckless and stupid but honestly I'm probably wrong. Tris isn't exactly the sort of person to stand around and wait for other people to approve of her idea before she executes it; I both admire that and absolutely cannot stand that, this is supposed to be an exercise in teamwork after all.

After another couple of minutes of no progress both within my own team and my own head, Christina drops down next to me.

"I don't suppose you have any bright ideas," she says.

"Nothing coherent. Nothing actually doable. You didn't see where Tris went, did you?"

"Sure didn't. Do you think she's alright?"

"It's Tris and she can apparently bounce back from pretty much anything so, yeah probably but I wouldn't be surprised if she were off finding a way to injure herself further."

"Maybe we'll get lucky and she's off winning us the game."

"They only way we're going to win this game is if we can get together a coherent plan. Which, excuse my pessimism, I don't think is going to happen."

"I doubt the other team is any better off." She snickers. "Like you said, they're not the sharpest knives in the drawer."

"Yeah, but Eric doesn't give a shit about this being a learning experience. He has a plan and his team is going to execute it whether they want to do it or not."

She bumps me with her shoulder. "You seem to just have it all figured out.

I snort. "I wish. I've considered a couple different strategies that might satisfy everyone; but they don't work unless we know where the flag is, but we need a strategy to actually find the flag, and thus we are back to square one."

She sighs. "That's…that sucks."

"Yeah. Dauntless, not the best strategists. Like Four said, they aren't – we aren't – exactly concerned with any kind of thinking ahead or mental preparedness."

Will joins us a little bit later, looking annoyed and tired. "I'm done." He says as he sits down. "I'm done, I no longer give a shit. They can fuckin' do whatever they want. We're going to lose and Peter and Eric are going to be rubbing our noses in it for the next goddamn century."

"Your unyielding optimism really brightens my day; you know that?" Christina teases.

Will glares at her but he starts laughing after a second and then that laughter tapers off into a sigh. "We are so fucked."

"Oh yeah definitely," I agree. "Like if we could just get them to shut up long enough we might actually be able to come to a compromise, but, like, of course not."

"Oh my god!" A Dauntless-born exclaims and at first I think that it's just because of the argument, but then I notice everyone looking in one direction.

The three of us stand up to see what everyone's looking at, and the ferris wheel is moving. The three of us look at each other in bewilderment and then understanding; in unison we say, "Tris."

Of course, not even five minutes later she strolls up with Four. The entire team moves to meet them before they even reach the carousel.

"Did you guys turn the wheel?!" an older member exclaims. "You might as well have just shouted, 'Here we are, please come get us,'." She shakes her head.

"The wheel doesn't matter," Four says. "We know where they are."

"We?" Christina says, looking between Tris and Four.

"Yes. While the rest of you were sitting around twiddling your thumbs, Tris climbed the ferris wheel to look for the other team."

"The – the flags, they glow," she explains.

"So what do we do now?" asks another one of the Dauntless-born through a yawn.

"I have an idea," I say quickly before anyone else can speak.

I expect everyone to ignore me and turn to Tris or even Four to direct them, or to just break down into arguing again, but they don't. For once, no one speaks and I have their undivided attention. I really hope that this sounds as good out loud as it does in my head.

"We move in waves," I say, "each arranged to begin attacking at a set interval. We go in quiet until we can't anymore. The first waves try to pin down the majority of Eric's team in a firefight while one person or a team of people, it doesn't matter, in the last wave goes for the flag."

There's a beat of silence where everyone just looks at me; and then Marlene asks, "What interval?"

I look back at Tris. "How far are we from the flag?"

"I would say a ten minute run maybe."

"Five minutes," I say. "That should be enough time to both get there and engage Eric, distracting them enough from realizing what we're doing and intercepting us."

"Fifteen minutes is a long time," another Dauntless-born says.

"Something you can't handle?" I raise my eyebrow and that shuts them up.

There's another moment of silence and then Four, very slowly, says, "That's actually not a terrible idea."

'_ Yeah, I know _,' I snap back in my head, but keep quiet.

"Let's do it," Marlene says.

The others agree; some enthusiastically and others more hesitantly, but it becomes the plan that we decide on nonetheless. We agree to split into five waves, and I volunteer to go with the first because it's my plan and I ought to be sticking my neck out if I really think it will actually work. The rest of the first wave is mostly made up of the Dauntless members because they're the most experienced among us; but Marlene and Myra are also with me, at least if this totally goes to shit before the others even arrive I'll have good company.

We disperse into smaller groups once we're among the trees because it's harder to spot two or three people sneaking around than it is to spot twenty. We'll each approach the other team from different angles and converge on them, backing them into a corner. We expect them to fight back and try to use their numbers to overpower us, but if we can just hold our ground for a few minutes then the second wave will arrive.

I have Marlene and Myra with me, and we decide that we're going to try and get as far inside their guard as we can before we announce our presence. They're expecting something from the outside, but the others will take care of that. We take the extra long way around for caution, but to my surprise and suspicion I didn't see a single member of Eric's team wandering around. The scouts must have passed this area already, or Eric is more clever than I thought.

I guess that there's nothing that can be done about it now; but I really, really hope that we win this game. I really need this idea to work so that I'm not just the mediocre Erudite transfer with no distinguishing qualities whatsoever.

Where we slip in, there's no guards and very few on our way to the tower where Tris said they're keeping the flag. We won't actually try to grab it, we just want to clear the way for the fifth wave as much as possible. That's where Tris and Christina both are, and Will is with the second. Even though we're not in any real danger I still worry about them.

Marlene checks her watch and holds up her hand, indicating that we have a full five minutes before the second wave arrives. That's when the shouting and firing starts; I hear it coming from the front, where the Dauntless members must have engaged the guards. Good, that should make it easier for us and the fifth wave to sneak around.

We sneak around to the base of the tower, where there's a maze of large shipping containers and cement walls for us to hide behind. Marlene is the first of the three of us to take a shot, she hits the guard by the door in the backs of his knees and he howls in pain and surprise, drawing more people over that the three of us open fire. I'm not a great shot with this gun either, but I can see how the practice has done some good because I hit more often than I miss; it's just not always where I intended, or who I intended. A ball whizzes by my head so close it nearly stains some of my hair right as another one catches me in the chest. The woman on the train was right, it does sting like a bitch.

Marlene's watch beeps and almost right as it does I hear a lot of shouting come from the front. So much for keeping quiet. She ducks back behind the shipping container for a quick second to set her watch again. Marlene, Myra, and I keep moving, keep trying to draw the guards closer to the big fight and farther from the tower. It also helps that the big fight is sort of coming to us, our team is starting to push them back behind their lines but unfortunately we're already here too.

It hardly feels like any time has passed before all we're waiting on is the fifth wave. My outfit is a mess of splatters and I'm sure all have constellations of welts tomorrow morning but all I care about right now is winning. So far it seems like my plan is going off without a hitch. But this is the easy part, cause as much chaos as possible to cover the last team. We still have to actually get the flag.

At some point I hear Marlene's watch beep for the fifth time but it barely registers with me. We've moved on from trying to draw the guards away from the tower because now they're within range of the others and their only choice is to fight back, because they're Dauntless and Dauntless don't run away from a fight. They've forgotten about their posts at the tower entirely, not the sharpest knives in the drawer.

The other team wasn't exactly expecting to be shot in the back, so most of them had left themselves wide open on that front. It was easy pickings for the three of us, and they're all broad enough that even I couldn't miss.

I don't even notice the fifth wave arrives; I keep all of my attention on the other team, which has finally noticed the three of us. It only feels like a few minutes have passed from arriving here when Christina bursts out onto the balcony of the tower holding the lime green flag with Tris right behind her. Everything stops and our team cheers. Marlene high-fives Myra and I and then Myra hugs the both of us.

The other team groans, letting their guns clatter to the ground. Some of them high-five the other team while others seem a little more bitter about the loss. But they can hardly be heard over the cheers coming from my teammates, whoops and just actual screams mixing into one oddly pleasant cacophony. To my knowledge, they never found our flag. We'd tossed it on top of the carousel before leaving, it was still visible and so technically not in violation of the rules but it was kind of a dick move because it meant that no one could get to it without making themselves an easy target.

I wait for Christina and Tris to come down, Will joining me as well. He has a puncture in his jacket from where he was hit with a dart but otherwise he looks just fine. We exchange giddy, but tired grins and say nothing. Tris and Christina come down not even a minute later; Christina is still holding the flag. Tris and I high-five, both of us knowing that we won the game for our team but not wanting to brag.

"Mimi!" Christina exclaims, wrapping me in a tight hug that I immediately return. She whispers in my ear through her laughter, "You do have it all figured out."

I laugh, squeezing her tighter. I hadn't realized how freezing it is out here until she hugged me and I was suddenly warm. My stomach churns and my chest feels like it's about to burst but in a good way.

She stares at me for another few seconds longer, examining my face carefully which makes me uncharacteristically nervous. Then she pulls away from me to pull Will into an equally giddy hug and the moment is gone, but the buzz in my chest still remains.

We walk back to the train tracks slowly, meeting up with Al along the way. He's covered head to toe in paint and seeming none too happy about it.

"Why couldn't I have been on your guys' team," he sighs. "That hurt so much."

"Because the universe hates you," Will deadpans. "You did miss Christina, Tris, and Mimi being absolutely incredible." He pulls Christina and I close to him, missing Tris because he can't quite reach her. "They quite literally won us the game."

I blush and lean my head back on his shoulder to stare up at the night sky. "I mean yeah, but Christina and I couldn't have done what we did without Tris finding the flag." I can see so many more stars out here than I ever could in the city, where there's so much light coming from the buildings that you can only see the brightest stars. This is also the first time I've looked up at the sky in about three weeks, another reason to dislike being underground that I would have never anticipated caring about.

"Yeah but there's no guarantee that we ever would have been able to get to it without your plan," Tris says. "And Christina did most of the work getting up there anyways."

Christina grins. "You should have seen us, Al. We were incredible!" She still holds Eric's luminescent flag in her hand and behind Will's back she swings one side over toward me. Slightly clumsily, I grab it and we manage to get it over all of our shoulders just barely and we probably look ridiculous.

"Hey," Marlene pulls me aside and lowers her voice. "Some of the other Dauntless-born and I are taking a little bit of an alternate route back, like a rite of passage thing. Want to come?"

I glance back at Will, Christina, and Al, noticing that Tris has dematerialized again. With me gone Will has taken over holding the other end of the flag and the two of them keep it wrapped around them tightly as they walk.

Marlene follows my gaze back towards them. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

It's not like I'm leaving one of them all alone, they'll have each other for company. Besides, I want to fit in with the Dauntless and this could be my chance to start doing that.

I shake my head. "Not at all. Sure thing, Marlene, that sounds lovely."

"Call me Mar," she says and then waves me after her as she walks away. "This way."

Myra and Tris have also tagged along with the Dauntless-born and we follow them through the darkened streets all the way back toward City Center which, despite being one of the busiest places in the city, is mostly dark at this hour. The walk alone must have taken forty-five minutes and it was well after midnight when we arrived at the boardwalk. The older Dauntless members lead us around most of City Center to get to the abandoned Hancock Building, which is abandoned because it's in such disrepair that it's more trouble to fix than it is to leave it. Though I've always wondered why it hasn't been demolished like so many others, but I suspect that I'm about to find out.

Another Dauntless is waiting for us outside the front doors and he grins when he sees us approach.

"Fresh off of capture the flag, little brother," the man gives Uriah a one armed hug. "Did you do me proud?"

"You bet," Uriah says. "Even brought along a few transfers from the winning team. For the three of you who don't know, this is my brother Zeke. Don't let the smile fool you, he's not that charming."

We laugh and Zeke shakes his head at Uriah.

"What are we doing here?" Tris asks.

"You don't get to know," says one of the older Dauntless. "That ruins the surprise." She extends her hand to Tris. "I'm Shauna, by the way."

"I'm-"

"I know who you are," Shauna interrupts her. "You're the Stiff. Four told me about you?"

"Oh really," Tris says and I can't see her blush but the awkward tone of her voice suggests that she's blushing. "What did he say?"

She smirks. "He said you were the Stiff. Why do you ask?"

"If my instructor is talking about me, I want to know what he's saying. He's coming, isn't he?"

I groan internally. If Four is coming, then this night just got a lot less pleasant.

"No. He never comes to this," she says. "It's probably lost its appeal after all this time."

Tris seems to deflate a little bit at Shauna's response, exact opposite my reaction.

"Do you know him well?" she asks.

"Everyone knows Four," she says. "We were initiates together. I was bad at fighting, so he taught me every night after everyone was asleep." She scratches the back of her neck, her expression suddenly serious. "It was really nice of him."

'Nice' and 'Four' aren't really two things that I'd really associate together, but I guess it's kind of fitting for him. Seems like he was really cut out to be a teacher.

Our little cluster walks up the steps of the building and then inside. One of the door frames doesn't have any glass in it so it's just the frame, but the glass has long since been swept up. The entry way is eerily dark and I expect for Zeke to lead us to the stairwell, but we stop at the elevators instead.

"Do the elevators work?" Tris whispers to Uriah.

"Sure they do." Zeke rolls his eyes. "You think I'm stupid enough not to come here early and turn on the generator?"

Uriah laughs. "Yeah, Zeke, I kind of do."

Zeke glares at him and then, not letting this snide comment slide, pulls him into a headlock and rubs his knuckles against his shaved head. Uriah smacks him in the side and he lets go, the both of them laughing.

The elevator doors open and the initiates pile into one and the members into the other. There aren't very many of us, but they're all Dauntless-born, who outnumber the transfers something like two to one.

"What floor?" asks a girl with a shaved head.

"One hundred," Tris says.

She whips around. "How would you know that?"

"Lynn, come on," Uriah says. "Be nice."

"We're in a hundred story building and we're Dauntless," Tris retorts. "Why don't you know that?"

She doesn't respond, she just jams her thumb on the button and the elevator zooms upward.

"Oh yeah," Marlene says before any semblance of silence can really settle over us. "Uriah wasn't the only ones who brought friends. Everyone, this is Myra and Mimi; Myra and Mimi, meet everyone."

"It's very nice to meet you, everyone." Myra giggles.

"How did three transfers wind up with us anyways?" asks a Dauntless-born who's name I don't know.

"You were on the other team weren't you?" Marlene asks and the boy nods miserably. "Well, Tris and Mimi are the two people responsible for your loss. Tris found the flag and Mimi made the plan to get it. Myra was with Mimi and I and she's just really cool."

Myra twirls a lock of finger around her hair, blushing a little. Tris and I exchange smiles again.

"It was pretty smart of them," Uriah says. "Like, Erudite smart."

Tris and I share another look, both of us knowing what the other is thinking, but neither of us say anything.

"Just because you did one cool thing doesn't make you any less transfers," Lynn says. "You're not Dauntless yet."

Marlene leans her head on Lynn's shoulder. "Come on, they're not so bad."

Lynn rolls her eyes, but smiles at Marlene.

"I wonder how we'll get to the roof from…" his voice trails off as the doors open.

The hundredth floor is no better lit than the lobby but light leaks in via a massive hole in the ceiling, making an aluminum ladder look like it's glowing in the dark.

"You know, I'm more curious how they managed to knock that hole in the ceiling," Myra mutters to me and I nod.

We follow Lynn and Marlene up the ladder to the roof, which thankfully has a rail around the perimeter to keep us from falling off. No one speaks, not even as the Dauntless members arrive, we all just take a second to be totally captivated by the view of the city from all the way up here; swathes of bright light next to pitch black as some sectors of the city are much less busy than others. From up here I can see all the basic shapes on maps I've seen that I can recognize as places that I know. I think of Will, memorizing a map of the city in his spare time, it doesn't seem so trivial now. In fact I can actually understand the impulse to want to have a bird's eye view of everything always in your mind. He would love it up here I'm sure.

In my peripheral vision I see people moving to gather around one part of the balcony and when I manage to tear my gaze away from that breathtaking view I finally notice that secured to one of the poles rising up from the roof is a thick steel cable that runs off the building, straight out into the darkness. I may not have memorized a map of the city, but if I had to guess I would say that it touches down somewhere near the Dauntless compound.

On the ground next to the railing is a pile of black belts, harnesses, Zeke secures one to the zipline and in his best corny announcer voice says, "Step right up, step right up! Who among you will be the first to brave the death and gravity defying Zipline of Terror?!" Before he can get through another sentence, he breaks down into laughter.

Shauna, also laughing, is the first one to 'step right up'. She climbs onto the railing and my breath catches for a second when she does as I'm reminded of Christina having to climb over the railing on the bridge over the Chasm.

'_ This is different _,' I remind myself. ' _This is fun. Dangerous, but what Dauntless fun isn't? _'

She gets into the sling and Zeke secures the straps tightly around her but my second hand anxiety doesn't fade; I can almost see the tough fabric fraying and snapping, plunging her to her death a hundred stories below. The image of the girl who didn't make it to the roof back on the first day of initiation isn't something I think I'm going to be forgetting any time soon. That girl was sixteen years old, just like me, what's going to stop me from falling?

I'm drawn back to reality as Zeke counts down from five and then shoves her off into the darkness, I can hear her cheering as she hurtles to the ground for a few seconds and then it fades away.

Some of the others whoop and throw their fists in the air, Myra among them. We all form the closest that we can get to an orderly line, ten people between me and the zipline. It's nothing against Zeke, I'm fairly confident that he knows what he's doing, it's just that I know accidents happen and I don't want to be one of them; I don't want any one of us to just die in some tragic accident like Rita's friend.

No one else seems afraid, the members have all probably done this a hundred times before; but the initiates, who heard and maybe saw the same thing I did, they all look nothing but excited. Maybe they're just good at hiding their fear, maybe the things that have happened over the past two and a half weeks don't bother them like they bother me.

"So this is Dauntless culture," Myra says.

"Yep, this is about what I expected," I say. "The ziplining, I mean, and maybe capture the flag but everything else kind of came out of left field."

"Yeah, same actually. Scared?"

I give her a tight smile. "Petrified. You?"

She squeezes my arm, somehow managing to avoid all of my bruises. "Figuratively shitting my pants."

The knot of tension inside me slackens marginally as we exchange smiles. We're in the same boat, afraid but unwilling to back down now.

"You know," she says, "my father used to say to me that real bravery isn't never being afraid, but rather acknowledging your fears and acting in spite of them."

"Your father sounds like a smart man." The saying sounds rather familiar to me as well, I don't know where I would have heard it from though.

"He was." Something flickers in her expression for a moment; Myra is as homesick as the rest of us but too proud to show it, just like the rest of us.

Something that I hadn't noticed about her before now, standing right next to, is that her hair isn't naturally red; the lack of time she's had to pay attention have left the light brown roots to grow out long enough to become noticeable.

I look back at the zipline again to see Tris getting in; that means there's only three people left until I have to go. She slips into the harness on her stomach like most of the others. She looks back at the line of people left as Zeke and her eyes meet mine for a quick second.

"Ready, Stiff?" Zeke says. "I have to say, I'm impressed that you aren't screaming and crying right now."

"I told you," Uriah says. "She's Dauntless through and through, now get on with it."

"Careful, little brother," Zeke chides with teasing tone. "or I might not tighten your straps enough come your turn and then, splat!"

"Yeah." Uriah rolls his eyes. "And then mom would boil you alive."

Zeke shrugs. "Only if she found out." He counts Tris down and then lets her go. I don't hear her scream in terror or cheer like the others before her did, she was just there and then Zeke let go and she wasn't.

"Who would've thought that the Stiff would be the bravest out of all of us," Myra mutters.

I look off in the direction that the zipline leads. "She's really not what anyone would expect." I look back at Myra. "It's cool, right?"

"Heh." She nods, looking away toward the zipline. "It's…something to behold."

Myra and Tris are the two that struggle the most in initiation, as the two smallest and leanest initiates in our transfer class they have kind of a hard time gaining the upper hand in fights. We haven't seen our rankings yet, but I know what Eric thinks about them just from the way that he jeers when they fight. From the way that she acts I assumed that Myra thought herself to be above his petty insults, but I think that she wants to impress just as much as the rest of us do. We all know that Tris is truly Dauntless, it's something that everyone can see and after that game of capture the flag I think that she's pretty much proved that she belongs here. She climbed the fucking ferris wheel, if that doesn't prove it I don't think anything will.

Myra hasn't really done anything that anyone's taken notice of; she isn't the best fighter, she isn't the cruelest initiate, she isn't the bravest out of all of us, she wasn't the first to knock someone out, Eric hasn't tried to kill her, she doesn't talk back to Four. She, much like Will, Drew, and Molly, and the other initiates – the normal fucking people in this sea of chaos – pretty much seems to stick to the sidelines. I wonder if she's jealous, because Tris really sticks out and maybe she just wants to be that.

Maybe I'm reading into it too much.

Marlene is gone before I realize and then Myra steps up. As Zeke straps her into the harness she looks back at me and says, "See you on the other side." Then Zeke lets her go and she disappears into the night, cheering all the while.

I have to wait for a small eternity before Zeke beckons me forward. I climb onto the barrier with shaking limbs and let Zeke guide me face down into the sling. I can see how far the drop is and I think of Rita's friend again. I'm not someone who's afraid of heights, but I'm also not usually someone that flirts with death for the hell of it. Although I guess that that's better left in the past; flirting with death for the hell of it might as well be right in the Dauntless manifesto for all that it seems to be a requirement to join up with them.

"Ready?" Zeke asks.

"As I'll ever be," I say, trying to let my nerves show through my voice.

"That's the spirit." He smacks me on the shoulder and it makes the sling bounce slightly. I swallow a scream and smile at him instead. "Don't forget to pull the break at the bottom." He tugs lightly on a handle attached to a cord behind me. I nod and he pulls me back slightly. "Three, two, o-" he lets me go and the rest of the word is lost as I hurtle away from the Hancock Building.

I swallow another scream and grip the harness around my chest for dear life.

'_ I am not going to fall _,' I remind myself. ' _I have every confidence in Zeke and his knowledge; I am going to be just fine. I'm Dauntless, this is what we do. _'

I'm lower than I was up on the roof, but it still kind of feels like I can see everything up here among the skyscrapers. I breathe heavily, the harsh wind drying out my mouth almost immediately, and then instead of screaming I try a cheer. This isn't actually so bad; I mean, it's scary as fuck but in a way that makes me feel like my whole body is vibrating and I want to laugh. It's a weird feeling and not really something that I've ever experienced before, but it thrills me.

Perhaps flirting with death isn't so bad; death doesn't seem to be all that into me.

Up ahead of me, there's a brick wall with a giant X formed by floodlights. Feeling both disappointed and relived that the ride is over, I reach up and pull the brake. Standing on the ground, which is a survivable distance away now though it would still really hurt to hit the concrete and I'd probably break a bone, are the Dauntless; some of them I saw up on the roof and others must have been waiting here to catch the first person. They form a net of sorts with all their arms, ready to catch me. I reach behind me and first undo the straps around my legs, feeling them drop down makes a bolt of terror run straight through me. I hesitate before undoing the two straps around my chest, looking down at the people again. With the bright lights on them I can very clearly make out Marlene, Myra and Tris, then Uriah and Lynn. I take a deep breath; these are my people and I trust them. Dauntless is my family, not by blood but by choice and neither of those bonds outweighs the other. The love that I feel for both are a little different but I love them nonetheless; insane as Dauntless is, it's still amazing to me. Despite everything, that spark hasn't dulled since initiation started; I just see things a little differently now, but I also think that I am allowed to be idealistic and realistic at the same time. Ideals and idealism are what hold these factions together.

I unbuckle both straps at the same time and fall into their arms, landing on my stomach because I don't have enough time to turn over. I feel muscle and bone dig into my flesh and it knocks the wind out of me, but I don't mind in the slightest. They lower me to the ground in almost perfect unison and disentangle themselves from each other to let me stand up.

I get to my feet and find a spot in the tangle next to Tris right as another body comes into view. I grab Myra's hand across from me and a stranger's wrist as the human net reforms to catch that person.

Tris leans over and in my ear says, "Pretty cool, right?"

"Amazing," I say breathlessly.

We catch four more people before Zeke himself comes down and then we all begin to walk back to the Dauntless compound, laughing and talking loudly as if it isn't the very early hours of the morning.

Exhaustion begins to settle over me and only becomes more and more apparent the closer we get to the dormitories. Tris, Myra, and I don't bid each other goodnight; we all just collapse on our respective beds. My last thought before falling asleep is that I might be just fine here, the first time I've thought that since the start of initiation.

We're all going to be just fine.


	14. Chapter 14: Sharpen Your Knife

The next morning comes too fast. I doubt that I slept more than two hours, but I don't regret it in the slightest. This is the first time I haven't been one of the first few people up, instead when I drag myself to the bathroom the only one missing is Tris. Myra and I exchange tired, but satisfied glances as I come in, setting my things on the counters with the sinks and then getting in the shower.

That was the first night that I really felt Dauntless, like it wasn't all just me trying to be something that I'm not. It was great, and if I'm being honest with myself then I hope that the rest of my life is like that. Maybe not the ziplining part, but the feeling of it all, actually getting to take part in Dauntless culture which is now my culture rather than feeling like an outsider or someone who only has one foot in the door. For the first time, everything that I want to do actually feels achievable and attaching the Dauntless label to myself feels natural. This is my home, this is where I belong and I can be here knowing chose it for myself and not because I was trying to live up to the vision that someone else had for me. I am only the person that I want to be, and I think that I'm starting to get a little bit clearer of an idea as to who that person really is. I'm still ambitious like an Erudite, I think that I always will be and finally feeling like I belong here only makes me more resolute in my goals.

When I get out of the shower, Myra and Molly are both gone but Tris has gotten up. She greets me with a yawn and when I walk to the mirror to do my hair I nudge her shoulder with my own.

"Tired?" I say.

"Wiped. You?"

"Yeah, absolutely."

We both laugh and it sounds strained and tired, but sincere. Christina gives us a quizzical look, but for now says nothing.

As usual, we all wait for each other before going to breakfast. I like the routine that we're all falling into, the way that training is pretty much almost always the same. I'm beginning to see that not everything about Dauntless is just random and chaotic 24/7. There's a routine here that people seem to stick to for the most part and a way of life that they've carved out for themselves. That said, there really is no such thing as a dull moment.

"Where did you two go last night?" Will asks when we sit down at our usual table. "Mimi, Marlene pulled you away to talk to you for a second and then you were just gone."

Tris and I exchange grins, neither of us are quite sure if we should spill the Dauntless-born's secret. I also don't want to say anything because I don't want them to feel left out. It was great and I had tons of fun but I also think that it would have been cool to have them there.

"We took an alternate route back," Tris says.

Will raises his eyebrows. "That was a pretty long ass route. You didn't come back until after we were all in bed."

"Yeah." Tris nods. "It was a little…complex."

Al is all but asleep in his breakfast, his head dipped down as he blinks slowly in an attempt to keep himself awake.

"You doing alright, buddy?" I ask.

He groans in response, rubbing his eyes.

"My sentiments exactly," Will says.

I take another long drink of my coffee, refusing to let my eyes glaze over. I can handle a little less sleep than usual, Dauntless hasn't changed me _that _much.

"God, you know I just cannot wait to spend all day beating my knuckles bloody against a punching bag after last night," Christina says. "That's just," she interrupts herself with a yawn, "buckets of fun."

"Beats getting punched in the face," I point out.

"Yeah, but if you get knocked out that's an extra few minutes of free sleep," Will jokes.

I snort. "How very optimistic of you."

"Yep." He leans back in his chain and puts his arms behind his head. "I'm just here to brighten your day, it's one of the things you love about me."

I roll my eyes. "Sure it is, Will."

I glimpse Marlene on the way over to her table her tray and she sees me too. We smile at each other across the dining hall and them she goes to join the rest of her friends.

After we're all done with breakfast, or more accurately as close to adequately caffeinated as we can get within our time frame, we walk to the training room. Though I'm freshly determined to do well, I can't say that I'm especially excited about training today. Maybe I'd be a little more so if it didn't start at six in the morning. I'm sure no one else is faring any better, but the Dauntless don't stop for anything and doing things the hard way is just a part of their way of life.

Eric doesn't show for the morning half of training, which means that it's for the most part more chill than usual. However, it seems that his victory last night has done nothing to soften Four; he prowls around making all the same criticisms that he usually does and never even making the most half assed attempt at positive reinforcement. It really doesn't help that most of us are basically falling asleep standing up. Last night really took it out of me, I thought that I could just continue on like I used to in Erudite but that was a different kind of exhaustion. With that it was just my brain that was fried and I could fix that, but with training being the way that it is, we have no time to recover and so this hits us all hard. Even Peter and Edward aren't quite a hundred percent.

Lunch comes and goes too fast and part of me seriously considered going back to the dorms and just taking a nap like Drew and a few others do. But I also know from experience that training sucks on an empty stomach even more than it does with a full one. It's also a really good thing that the Dauntless cooks make a lot of food because ever since I've started gaining muscle mass I'm basically ravenously hungry all the time, which is _almost _as bad as being sore all the time. But I won't pretend like I don't think it's a little cool how I can see just a little bit of definition in my muscles. Sore as I am, I feel a lot stronger than I did when I first arrived in Dauntless; I'm not the delicate Erudite girl with perfect makeup and shiny hair anymore. In fact, by Erudite standards, I look like shit most days; I'm bruised, I hardly ever wear makeup, I no longer have all the product that kept my hair so nice. But honestly, I don't care; in fact, in some ways, I no longer feel any sort of pressure to be perfect because I can't get much further away from everything that I used to consider perfect than the way I am now.

When we all trudge back to the training room, Eric is there and a line of human shaped targets have been set up, the circles being painted around the stomach. About fifteen feet from the targets is as a table full of polished silver knives with black grips wrapped around the hilts. The sight of them makes me smile a little, finally something that I actually know how to do. Now granted, I'm not as good as Melanie, but she was the one who showed me how. She's got some sort of fascination with knives just like Minerva used to have with fighting.

"Apparently Four failed to mention this to you this morning," Eric says, "but you all only have three weeks left of training. Your final fights are on the fourteenth of October, but training proceeds as normal so you'd all better be wide awake on Monday. Today though, you'll be learning how to throw knives. Everyone pick up three knives and pay attention while Four demonstrates the correct technique for throwing them."

No one moves toward the table for a few seconds.

"Now!" Eric yells.

We all scramble toward the table to pick up our three.

"He's in a bad mood today," Christina mutters.

"Is he ever in a good mood?" Tris mutters back.

"When is he not?" I say at the same time.

Judging by the death glare that Eric gives Four when he isn't paying attention, last night's loss bothers him a lot more than he'd care to let on. Capture the flag is important to Dauntless, a matter of pride for the team and captains alike and pride is very important to the Dauntless.

We all watch Four throw his three knives very carefully. I am familiar with this subject, but I wouldn't dare think I'm good enough that I shouldn't pay attention. Four is very precise about his throws, but relaxed and confident as well like he's been doing this all his life. Actually it wouldn't really surprise me if Four just sprang forth fully formed from some hole in the ground already brandishing a knife. The three knives he throws stick in the center of the board so closely that the edges almost brush.

"Line up!" Eric orders as Four goes to the board to collect his knives.

I slip two of the knives into the pocket of my pants for now and easily toss one of them back from hand to hand, adjusting my grip and generally trying to get a feel for the way that the blade is balanced. They're obviously well made, lovingly crafted though nothing like the custom, decorative ones Melanie has that I've only seen a handful of times.

When she was teaching me to throw, she told me that really what it came down to was physics and practice. General mental math can be applied in order to get the basics down. It's a very Erudite way of approaching something like this, very fitting for my Erudite sister, approaching it like a scientist and picking it apart in order to achieve the desired results.

These are weighted a little differently than the ones I remember her letting me practice with, but the same rules still apply. I flip the blade in my hand and hold it the way I was taught so as not to cut myself, which she did a lot when she was first starting out I remember, and draw my arm back.

'_ The easiest way to do this is to match your throws to your breaths _,' I recall her telling me as she drew my arm back for me. I can almost hear her voice, feel her fingers ghosting over my arm and shoulders to adjust my stance. ' _Exhale. Inhale. Exhale and throw simultaneously _.'

I hit the target, only slightly above the center dot, but I didn't throw with enough force and so the blade slides out of the wood after a few seconds. I retrieve the second knife from my pocket and try again, adjusting my aim slightly and throwing harder. That one slams into the board but down and to the left of the dot. I try again with the third knife, shutting out all the other distractions and just trying to focus on what's in front of me.

That's the one that divides that tiny center dot down the middle.

"Hey," Christina says. "You're pretty good at that." She throws her third knife and while it gets within the circle it's still pretty far off from the center.

Most of us finish with our three around the same time, so we walk up to the board to retrieve them. I pick my first up off the floor and then start at getting the other two out of the wood. They're really stuck in there too, maybe I threw them a little _too _hard.

"Thanks," I say while still struggling to pull out the third knife. "My older sister taught me." The knife pops out and I nearly fall backward but Will's arm shoots out and grabs mine before I hit the ground.

"Careful," he teases.

I roll my eyes, but smile at him. "My hero."

"Yep." He grins. "This makes, what, the second or third time I've saved you from falling? It's what you love about me."

"I thought I love you because you're an optimist." We walk back to our spots away from the board.

He shrugs. "I contain multitudes."

"Hold on," Christina interjects. "Can we just rewind to that part where you said your _sister _taught you to do this?"

"I mean, she had an instructor first but yeah she showed me a few things."

"Didn't you say you were Erudite?" Christina says, no less confused.

"Yeah, it's just a skill like any other. Calculus, gymnastics, knife throwing; they've all got the same basic principle to learning them, practice until you get it right. Really it can be applied to anything." I remember learning very early that anyone could do anything if they wanted it badly enough, if they worked hard enough. My sister can throw knives, my mother can lead a faction, I can be Dauntless. All I have to do is try, and if there's one thing I know how to do it's try.

Christina smiles and shakes her head in disbelief, but doesn't say anything else.

An hour and a half later, every one of us has managed to at least get our knives within the circle if not at the center save for Al. Unlike fighting, he just can't seem to get the hang of it and while the rest of us go up to pull our knives from the board he hunts the floor for his. Part of me wants to help him, but I'm not close enough to just talk him through it and with Eric and Four watching us I can't say with any certainty that I wouldn't get in trouble for that. Eric's in a foul mood as it is and I have no desire to poke that particular bear.

The next time he misses, Eric nearly snarls under his breath and storms toward him.

"How slow are you, Candor?!" he demands. Do you need glasses?! Should we move the target closer?!"

Al doesn't respond, but his face turns bright red. He throws another knife and this one runs out of momentum before it can even reach the board, scraping and clattering against the concrete floor.

"What was that, initiate?" Eric's voice drops and he leans closer to Al. I watch this exchange out of the corner of my eye while trying to mostly keep my focus on the board. It really shows where my attentions gone when I throw and miss the target by a mile.

"It – It slipped," Al says meekly.

"Well I think you should go get it." Apparently everyone was paying attention, because as soon as the words leave Eric's mouth everybody stops throwing. Even Peter, who I wouldn't put it past to stab any one of us.

Eric's head whips around. "Did I tell you to stop."

We start throwing again. All of us have seen Eric angry before, but this is different, this is like when he made Christina hang over the Chasm. I glance at her, and I know that she notices it too.

Al's eyes widen. "Go get it? But everyone's still throwing."

"And?"

"And I don't want to get hit."

"I think you can trust your fellow initiates to aim better than you." He smiles a little, but it doesn't reach his eyes or really the rest of his face at all. "Go get your knife."

Al usually complies with everything we're told to do without argument. Not because he's afraid, but because he knows that arguing with Eric and Four is about as effective as arguing with a brick wall. I think that we all know that, but it's never stopped most of us from trying at least once.

This time is different; this time he stands straight and meets Eric's eye, setting his jaw. He's finally at the end of his rope, walking across a floor of people throwing knives with varying degrees of proficiency, and one of the people throwing is _Peter _, is where he draws the line. It's an understandable line, but Eric isn't really the understanding type.

"No."

"Why not?" Eric's eyes narrow and venom positively drips from his words. "Are you afraid."

"Of getting stabbed by an airborne knife? Yeah, I am."

He shouldn't have said that. He should have just continued to refuse, Eric might have just accepted that. He should have just insulted us all and said that he didn't think our aim was good enough not to hit him, or that he didn't think one of us wouldn't hit him on purpose; Eric might have gotten a kick out of that.

But he didn't and now Eric's face contorts with rage and he shouts, "Everyone stop!"

He didn't really have to shout, we were all paying attention to him anyways. Eric is completely unpredictable when it comes to punishments, sometimes he just berates the person and sometimes he tries to kill them. On this though I think the latter is about to take place, I can only hope that Al won't walk away from this with too many injuries.

"Clear out of the ring." Eric turns back to Al. "Everybody except you."

We put our knives back on the table and move to the edge of the room by the pillars in a tight cluster. Christina breathes heavily, her terror evident in her eyes. I remember what she said to me a while back after she had to hang over the Chasm and had a nightmare later that night, '_ I can't stop thinking about how many ways it could have killed me, and how it could have killed you guys if you were in my place _'. And that's what she's thinking now, her nightmare come true. She takes Will's arm and squeezes it tightly.

"Stand in front of the target," Eric says.

Al listens to him this time, and as he stands there his knees begin to shake.

"Hey, Four." Eric glances over his shoulder. "Give me a hand here."

Four scratches his eyebrow with the point of a knife and then walks very slowly to stand beside Eric.

"You're going to stand there while Four throws those knives, and if you flinch, you're out."

Four gives a put-upon sigh. "Is this really necessary?"

Apathetic as ever, I see. Whereas Eric actively wants to torture us, Four just doesn't give a single shit about us, our wellbeing, or even our lives.

Eric stares Four down, waiting for him to submit to his authority. But Four just stares back blankly.

After a minute Eric sneers at him. "I have the authority here, remember? Here and everywhere else."

Four shows no emotion as he turns back toward Al, who's whole body is trembling now. I feel sorry for him, just like I felt sorry for Christina, but there's nothing that we can do for him either.

The seconds that pass as Four takes aim feel like hours to me, and the tension in the room is palpable.

"Stop," Tris blurts out. Eric and Four both whirl around, Four nearly dropping the knife in surprise when she speaks.

"Any idiot can stand in front of a target," she hardly even seems to notice everyone else's stares. "It doesn't prove anything except that you're bullying us. Which, as I recall, is a sign of cowardice."

"Then it should be easy for you to take his place," Eric says with a cruel smile. "Same rules apply, but if you flinch he takes your place and then you can both be factionless."

Tris walks away from the crowd slowly and with her head held high.

"There goes your pretty face," Peter taunts her. "Oh wait, you don't have one."

She says nothing, betraying as little emotion as Four when she switches places with Al at the target. Al is very nearly in tears and he looks guilty that Tris is having to take his place, but relieved.

I look at the wicked sharp knives in Four's hand, on in his right that he draws back and three in his left. I consider all of the times I've insisted that they can't actually kill us and not for the first time I wonder if I might actually be wrong about that.

Four's knife embeds just at the edge of the human shaped target, a fair distance from Tris' left hand. Christina buries her head in Will's chest when it hits and he wraps his arms around her. Though the most of us cringe at the sound, Tris doesn't flinch; she does close her eyes though, waiting for the next.

"You done, Stiff?" Four taunts.

Tris' jaw clenches. "No."

"Eyes open then."

Her hands clench into fists at her sides as she steels herself for the next knife, which Four very casually tosses from his left hand into his right. It's little more than a flash as it flies through the air and then sticks in the head of the target, which is far above Tris' own.

"Come on, Four," Eric says. "You can get a little closer than that."

Four shrugs at him. "Come on, Stiff. Let someone else stand there and take it."

"Shut up, Four!" she snaps and I have to suppress the urge to laugh at the face he makes when she says that.

He throws the third knife and it embeds into the wood far to the right of Tris' head.

"Closer," Eric goads.

Four glances back at him. "Want me to give her a little trim?"

"Yeah. Maybe just a little off the top."

He throws the fourth knife, this one seeming to be aimed right at Tris' head. I close my eyes for a second as the knife makes contact. But not with her; it wedges in the wood right above her ear. She inches away from the knife and touches her fingertips to the shell of her ear, grimacing. He cut her.

"Well," Eric says grandly, "as much as I would love to stick around and see if you're all as bold as she is, we're done for the day. Get out." He points at Tris. "Points for bravery, Stiff, but not as many as you just lost for opening your mouth."

The others start to leave but Christina, Will, Al, and I go toward Tris; she sees us, but holds up her finger for us to give her a minute. I nod and walk out and back toward the dormitory with the others following me. Will and Christina have let go of each other, and none of us breathe a word the whole way back.

The dormitory is quiet when we walk in, Myra and Peter are gone but no one else is. Eric let us go early so we all have time to kill until dinner.

Tris is back another minute later and, save for Drew and Molly, the dorm bursts into applause. My friends and I meet her as soon as she walks through the door.

"You do have a death wish!" Christina exclaims, wrapping her arm around Tris' shoulder.

Will claps her on the back. "I cannot believe you said that you Eric."

"Or that you told Four to shut up," I say. "I think that makes you worse than me at this point."

"That was amazing," Al gushes.

"No one's ever stood up to him like that," Edward adds, hanging around near us.

"Hey, Tris." Molly approaches us and I feel immediately defensive. "That was pretty cool."

"Yeah, impressive stuff." Peter slithered back into the dormitory at some point, except now he's holding a tablet.

"Shut up," Will snaps.

"What? No, I mean it." Peter's eyes are wide with fake innocence. I don't consider myself a violent person but I really, really want to punch him. "You're famous now." He pauses as we give him blank stares. "Not because of the thing with Eric, no that was…whatever. You're in the news, the article just dropped this morning." He brings the tablet closer to his face. "Recent transfers of Beatrice and Caleb Prior children of Andrew Prior call into question the soundness of Abnegations teachings and values. What prompted them to leave?"

We start walking away, trying to skirt around him but he follows.

"Perhaps the answer lies in the corrupted ideals of an entire faction," he continues to read. "The theft of resources, the general incompetence, the abuse of their children." He looks up and at Tris with mock sympathy. "Did your parents beat you, Tris, like Marcus Eaton's kid?"

"They didn't beat anyone," Tris snaps. "The Abnegation are good people."

"And that's why you chose to leave?"

Tris makes a frustrated noise and walks away, the others going with her but I hang back.

"Was it something I said?" Peter says.

"Peter," I sigh, tipping the tablet up in his hand and pressing it into his chest. "You and I both know that those claims are nothing more nothing more than tabloid drivel and have nothing to do with anything. Honestly, I'm surprised that you can read at all but gossip magazines, _really _? That's the best ammunition you can find?"

"That a challenge, Ice Queen?" he hisses, stepping closer to me.

"It's a critique. I could go on, but frankly I have better things to do with my time." I walk away before he can manage a retort or even a threat.

I've met the woman who I suspect writes all the articles about Abnegation, she writes under a pseudonym to protect her reputation but it's fairly obvious to most. Lucy Sharp, the head of the journalism department in Erudite, can hardly be called a journalist at all. Sure, there was a time when she was one of the greats and that's what secured her the position that she currently holds; but as of recent years she seems to have found that it's far more fun to drag people's names through the mud than actually write about anything of note, she has the rest of the department for that. In person, she's a gossip, a snob, and a very good friend of my parents. I know her because we socialized with her at all the dinner parties and other classy events I was all but obligated to attend.

"Don't listen to him," Christina says to Tris right as I catch up with them. "He's an idiot."

"Yep," Tris says. "I know. It's okay."

We turn a corner and Will pauses muttering, "What's she doing at Dauntless?"

Walking down the hallway right toward us is Jeanine, my mother and Gwendolyn on either side of her, and a small crowd of Erudite trailing behind them. Max walks a few feet away with his hands clasped behind his back, nodding every so often as Jeanine talks.

We move to the edge of the hallways, waiting for them to pass. I catch Gwendolyn's eye and she nods at me in acknowledgement; I wave back in response, smiling.

Jeanine and my mother stop in front of us, my mother waving off the crowd and most of them leave quickly as Gwendolyn begins speaking and some of them nearly having to jog to keep up with her pace.

"Mimette," Jeanine says, smiling.

"Let Dr. Morgan lead, she can explain it just as well. We'll be there in five, don't wait," my mother mutters to one of the people at the tail end of the crowd and I recognize him as Ryan Chantanelle, my mother's secretary.

He nods, brushing a swoop of brown and gray hair away from his eyes. "You got it, Boss." He glances at me, smiling and giving a mock two-finger salute with the same exaggerated swagger he does everything with. "Mini."

"Ryan." I smile at him, my voice dripping with amusement.

He smiles back and then walks away to join the rest of the crowd. He's my mother's assistant, and though most people find him kind of insufferable I've spent enough time around him to know he's not so bad. He and the rest of the people he works with on Support Crew, the team of people who keep basically everything in order in Erudite, they all insist on calling me Mini though which is…a lot. I don't love it but they insist on giving nicknames to all of my siblings and I could have done much worse. They've been calling Minerva 'Scrappy' since she was twelve.

My mother hugs me and says in my ear, "It's good to see you, my dear girl."

"Hi, Mom. I wasn't expecting to see you so soon either. I'm really happy you're both here though."

I don't bother to hide my affection for them both, like with Mark, my mother is a faction leader and no one is going to correct her.

"Happy belated birthday, Jeanine."

She smiles. "Thank you very much. How have you been?"

I shrug. "Well I mean we haven't got our ranking yet but I'm pretty good at training, I mean I'm not like the best but-"

"No," Jeanine corrects me. "I didn't ask about your ranking, I asked how you've _been _. Are you eating properly? Have you taken up any hobbies? Do you like it here?" She glances at the others. "I see your making plenty of new friends."

The four of them have sort of stepped back to give me some space and they seem surprised Jeanine acknowledged them at all.

"Uh, yeah." I look back at all my new friends. "Um this is Will, Christina, Al, and Tris. Everyone, my mother and Jeanine, who's kind of a family friend."

"How lovely to meet you all," my mother says.

"Prior," Jeanine says, pointing at Tris. "Aren't you Andrew Prior's daughter, Beatrice?"

"Uh, yeah." She rubs the back of her neck awkwardly. "But I sort of changed it to just Tris."

"You made an impressive choice, both of you actually. Given your respective families and your test results."

"Y-you've seen our test results." Tris stares at her with wide eyes.

"Of course." Jeanine glances back at my mother. "Well, we should probably get going. If you ever need anything, Mimi, let me know."

"I will. It was really good to see you again." I hug her. We're almost the same height now that I don't wear heels anymore.

"I'll see you on Visiting Day, Mim." My mother kisses the top of my head and then they both walk away, talking quietly to each other.

"That was…weird," Will mutters.

"Really weird," Christina agrees and then turns to Tris and I. "What was that?"

I shrug. "Like I said, Jeanine's a really close friend of my parents. She's kind of just…always been around for me. Tris, I don't know what the hell you did to get her attention?"

Well, I can think of one thing but other than that I don't think she's ever actually met Jeanine or my mother before.

She shrugs too. "I mean my father's on the council. That might have had something to do with it."

"Yeah," Will says, "but they hate each other; what's she got to gain from paying attention to you."

Tris furrows her brow. "Good question."

As we're walking, I look back in the direction of the doors they went through. They never did mention a reason for coming.

"You guys look alike." Al says to me, snapping me from my thoughts. "You and Jeanine."

"Yeah actually," Will agrees. "Like, now that you mention it I can definitely see it."

I shrug. I don't really, we have the same hair color but the similarities stop there. But I guess at a glance maybe.

I wonder if I should have told them that I changed my name. I think that it would have made Jeanine happy; she gave me that name and now it's the one that I'll be using for the rest of my life. It's not just that I haven't forgotten my Erudite roots completely, it's that I haven't forgotten my Erudite roots at all and I don't think that I ever will.

"So what do you think they were here for?" Tris says.

"Erudite makes all the tech in the city, right?" Will says. "It was probably just that."

"Yeah, but why would that need to involve the faction's leader, representative, and head of the chemistry department?" I say.

"Yeah, fair enough."

We walk away from that hallway towards the Pit; we still have a lot of time to kill before dinner.

As we pass by the tattoo parlor while taking a lap around the second floor of the Pit, I pause and then duck inside. My friends follow close behind, curious.

I glance back at them. "You guys can go on ahead if you'd like. There's…something I've kind of been looking at."

Christina shrugs and then so does Will. "It's cool," she says.

Tris and Al go on ahead though and then the two of them are drifting behind me as I open one of the catalogues to a page I made a note to myself to come back to at some point. In the top right corner of the page is a simple diamond outline. I glance up at the artist who has been sort of watching me since I came in, an older woman with black hair pulled into a bun.

"Find something you like?" she says.

"Yeah, actually." I flip the book around to show her. "Can I get four of these sort of…arranged in a bigger diamond o-on my inner right wrist?"

She hums. "Interesting. Yeah, come with me." She beckons for me to follow her, then stops and looks back at Will and Christina. "And I suppose your friends can come if they want."

The three of us follow her to one of the many rooms and I take a seat in the chair, my hands are already starting to tremble. I glimpsed Al and Tris do this only a couple of weeks ago but it's different doing it myself, different doing it after I said that I wouldn't.

"So this is sudden," Will says after a minute while the woman puts on a pair of rubber gloves and wipes down my skin with a wipe. "I thought you and I were supposed to be the sensible ones?" Christina laughs at that.

Explaining the truth of the matter would be too sentimental, bordering on traitorous given how we're supposed to devote ourselves to our new lives. But the truth is that I miss Erudite – I miss my home, I miss my friends, I miss my family. Seeing Jeanine and my mother earlier only rubbed that in.

I was never one of those kids that didn't get along with their parents; I didn't pick fights, I didn't really have a reason to rebel, there was so little that they asked of me that there was never any reason to do either of those things. I love and am very, very close to both of my parents, and the other two people that raised me like parents – whom I do think of as my secondary mom and dad. Jeanine and Damascus were and still are important to me, integral to who I am. My siblings and I are – if nothing else – a byproduct of their love for us and we are built on the foundations they laid.

I ought to recognize that.

"Mimi?" Will puts his hand on the arm that isn't currently held out to Tori. He chuckles. "Are you really that nervous?"

"Hm?" I look over at him rather than the intimidating tattoo gun about to go to work on my wrist.

"You totally zoned out for a second, didn't even answer my question."

For a split second there's a sharp pain and then a buzzing and I gasp, my whole body tensing. Will and Christina look alarmed; but I relax again, quickly getting used to the pain and so do they.

"Can't a girl be spontaneous once in a while?" I smile at him and he starts laughing.

"Sure, sure, why not?"  
Christina nudges him. "That _is _what being Dauntless is all about, Brainiac."

He nudges her back. "I know that. But still, it's _Mimi _."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I say indignantly.

Both of them laugh and Will doesn't bother to explain himself. I know exactly what he meant honestly, and it's hard to take it as a joke when it's so painfully accurate. I'm not Dauntless enough, not really, I don't look the part and I'm not exactly itching to get there. I like the way that I look, would be fine in any other faction but not here when the Look is a whole part of the culture. Erudite's like that too, in a way. The easiest thing for a person to change is their appearance, it should be the first of many signs of commitment.

Here's hoping people will take this as mine.

The next day when I wake up I'm a little less tired, though still wholly not looking forward to training or doing much of anything really and my wrist is killing me. I let out a big yawn and stretch, accidentally slamming my fist into the bunk above me.

"Ah!" Will exclaims and I hear him start above me.

"Sorry," I murmur, rubbing my stinging knuckles.

"You scared the hell out of me." I can just imagine the way that he presses his hand to his heart as though trying to calm it.

I murmur incoherently in the response. I start to get up but he jumps off his bunk and lands just inches from me, startling me into sitting back down.

"Will!" I hiss.

"Oh, that is so karma." He snickers and rubs at his tired eyes. "Also, I do that basically every morning, you'd think you'd be used to it by know."

"Yeah. You'd think." I kneel down to rifle through my basket of laundry for something, _anything _, that doesn't stink to high heaven. Will drops down next to me, doing something similar. He leans forward and rests his forehead against my bed like he intends to go back to sleep like that. I pat him on the back and he makes a noise in protest.

"Fine." I get to my feet. "Stay there."

I trudge into the bathroom with sections of my hair still hanging in my face and still a little bleary eyed. All of the showers are already occupied and there's a small crowd in front of the mirror talking. I wedge myself in next to the wall and that's when I spot Myra out of the corner of my eye.

"Myra!" I exclaim, suddenly awake. "Your hair!"

She twirls a lock of it around her finger. "Neat, right? I did it myself last night; I was up till like midnight with the bleach and everything but it was so worth it."

"Oh my god, I love it. And you said you did this yourself?"

She nods. "I did my last color by myself too. It's just easier than, like, being stuck in a salon chair for two and a half hours."

"Well it looks great." I start running my comb through my own hair, slowly picking through the tangles.

"I could do yours too, if you want."

"No. I don't really think that I'm a hair dye sort of person." I hold up my wrist. "Besides, I think this is enough of a change for me, for now at least."

She gasps, apparently delighted to the change. "That's so cool!" She gingerly takes my hand and extends my arm, the fingers on her free hand hovering just over the clear bandage. "What's it meant to be?"

I shrug. "Nothing really, it just looked cool."

She takes the statement at face value and lets me go. "So you'll ink a random symbol into your skin _forever _, but you won't dye your hair for, like, a couple months?"

I shrug.

"Come on, you'll never know unless you try." She nudges me with her elbow. "I think you'd look really good with, like, blue hair. Like really bright blue hair."

I roll my eyes. "I really don't think that dyeing my hair my old faction's color is exactly 'letting go'." I haven't really let go yet of course, but I have to maintain some sense of subtlty.

She grins. "Does that mean you'd be open to doing a different color?"

"I'm going to go with no on that one."

"Well I don't exactly think that staying prim, perfect, and proper is exactly letting go either. Come on, practically everyone's got something new."

I shake my head and then start on braiding back my hair. "I just want it to mean something, you know? I don't want to make some drastic change on a whim. It's got to be for a reason."

"And your reason for getting the tattoo was?"

Shit. Really backed myself into a corner with that one, didn't I?

"Um…" I sigh. "Yeah, there's a reason but…I don't really want to talk about it. It's a little personal."

She raises her eyebrows, clearly only more intrigued but drops it. "Well, at any rate, I think you've chosen the wrong faction if everything you do is for a reason. Doing drastic things on a whim are practically all Dauntless does; zipline, remember?"

"How could I forget?"

"Did that mean something? Did that have some deeper reason or did we just do it because we could, because we're Dauntless and that's what we do?" She grins at me and after a second I return it.

"Okay fine, you've got me there." Her grin widens and I shake my head slightly. "I'm still not dying my hair though."

The others make their way in alone or in small clusters as others trickle out. We've reached a point in our training where most of us can't manage more than the bare minimum of effort. If my father's right and to look good is to feel good, I could probably stand to put a little more effort into at least my hair if for no one else's sake than my own.

Some of the others comment on Myra's hair and she seems to glow with pride when they do, occasionally twisting a lock around her finger and beaming. At breakfast, which I wait up for the rest of my group to walk to and to my surprise she waits with me, Myra waves me over to the table that she and Edward occupy alone. I glance back at my other friends and Christina shooes me away with a flap of her hand. Will tilts his head to the side like a curious bird but doesn't say anything. I follow Myra to her table and sit with a seat in between the two of us. Over here, we're much closer to Peter's table. He and his group talk and joke like they don't find joy in being jerks to other people. I guess no one can be evil a hundred percent of the time.

Edward gives me a quizzical look as I sit down. "Finally get tired of Will?"  
I scoff. "No. What's your problem with him anyways?"  
He opens his mouth but Myra gives him a warning look and he frowns, obviously selecting his words very carefully. Finally, he shrugs. "Why don't you ask him."

A couple more of the Erudite transfers sit down at our table. I recognize them by the way that they sit, their appearances, it's all more familiar to me. I guess some people did take Edward up on his idea that the Erudite ought to stick together. I recognize some of them from school, some of them from events that I went to but not many and they don't seem to know me either (thank god).

One of the girls, Viola, shows off a new tattoo she'd gotten just yesterday. It's a bouquet of wilted roses with the clear bandage still wrapped around it, she seems very pleased with it and herself. Her closer friends admire it and brush their fingers over her arm, pulling back when she flinches. In turn I show off mine, drawing similar reactions from them. I'm a little surprised at how easily I fold into them, with all of our similarities, it's not like my other friends but they're a warm group of people who welcome me.

"I'm learning to love it," says one of the boys when the topic turns to our new lives here in Dauntless. "I think…I'll always miss Erudite but I know that this is where I belong."

"What about you, Mimi," Myra turns to me, "do you think very much about home?"

I shrug, swallowing the answer that I think about it all the time. Even though we're all Erudite transfers, I'm still different from them. "I try not to. I did leave for a reason."

_Don't ask me what it was, _I mentally tack on.

"I would certainly hope so." Edward chuckles. "Just because we're Dauntless now doesn't mean we have to abandon reason completely."

One girl snorts. "Tell that to our instructors; I've never met two more unreasonable people." That gets a laugh out of most of the table.

"I had first hour math with Elizabeth Reynolds," says one boy, "so I'm going to have to disagree with you there." My blood runs cold, I know that Eliza's kind of an…acquired taste, but I've never heard anyone talk about her the way that she, Casey, and I used to talk about Dahlia.

"That's fair," another chimes in.

I clench my jaw to keep myself from saying something stupid. I know exactly why people didn't – still don't – like Eliza; it's not really something I can argue against, but she was always good to me.

"Why the face, Mimi." Myra nudges me.

I don't respond. Instead I grip my fork so hard that the metal bites sharply into my hand.

"Mimi." She nudges me again, her voice lilting in a way that reminds me painfully of Casey.

"Nothing," I lie, my voice a little too sharp and she seems taken aback.

"Uh-huh," she replies, mercifully losing that tone.

The topic changes and I can relax again, though the memories of my old friends linger. I wish that I'd seen Casey with Mark at the fence, I hope he told her what I asked him to, I hope she knows that I still care about her.

"Can't believe there's only like a month left in initiation," Edward says.

"We can't be done soon enough if you ask me," says a boy with very gelled hair. "I'm sick of getting punched in the face every day."

"That's Dauntless for you," says another boy, snickering.

The first rolls his eyes. "It's something."

"Who do you guys think is going to get cut?" I say.

"Out of us?" Myra replies. "Could be anyone really, except for, like, Edward."

"And Peter," adds one of the guys with a grimace. "Unfortunately."

"Here's hoping that it's one or both of his cronies," says the person next to him. "Molly snores so much."

"Rumi, you snore," the boy replies.

Rumi gives an indignant scoff and folds their arms. "Well she also hogs the shower and I have a right to complain about that too."

"I can't really imagine any of us not being here," says one of the girls, her hair wrapped up in a black headscarf.

"That's because we're all amazing," Rumi replies, showing off their incredibly white teeth.

"No but, like, I guess I've just gotten used to having you all with me. I can't imagine my life without you." Her statement is met with sarcastic coos and joking accusations of sentimentality.

They remind me of my old friends, my old classmates. I probably had some of them in my class at least once, but it makes me smile. It's familiar in a way that doesn't make we want to scream, in a way that gives me a warm feeling in my chest.

"I mean that's kind of everyone, right?" Myra says. "Like, I couldn't imagine not seeing Mimi and her friends either and I barely know them."

"I don't know about that," the girl in the headscarf says as she rests her chin on her palm. "I think that there's plenty of people here that I could go the rest of my life without having to deal with that ever again."

The person next to rolls their eyes. "Quin, I can guarantee that half the reason you think that is because we live together."

Quin raises her eyebrow. "Yeah, so what if it is? Some of these people are shitty roommates, sue me."

Chuckles ripple through the table. She's right though, I've never had to share a room before initiation and I've thoroughly decided that I hate it. As nice as it is to have my friends just a few feet away, it's loud, and it smells, and I just in general hate having to deal with other people's annoying habits as they probably hate to deal with mine.

Semi-reluctantly, we get up at the end of breakfast and head to training. Without anyone else noticing, I hang back from the group and eventually fall in with the rest of my friends.

"So how was breakfast with the brainiacs?" Christina asks.

Will and I share a fondly exasperated look. I shrug and don't get into how I've always been the odd one out among the Erudite, how I didn't expect anything to be different now that we're Dauntless-Erudite but in a way it is and it fills me with a kind of happiness I can't describe.

The knives are set up in the training room again, so are the shooting targets. Four lets us take our pick of what we do and I wander more than I don't. Not as much as some others though, who seem like all they do is pace around and try to look busy when Four's around.

Tris and I spar pathetically, joking around with each other more than we don't and over-exaggerating the pain from the other's blows.

"Oh, you have done me in!" I cry as Tris tries to kick me and just grazes my leg. I fall to the ground in an overdramatic fashion, laughing all the way down.

"Get up, Ice Queen," Four snaps as he paces past our mat. He rolls his eyes at me and all I do is laugh harder.

"Careful, Mimi," Myra calls from the punching bags. "Else he'll wind up chucking knives at your head."

I don't laugh and neither does Tris, it's not that funny to her; she had to go through it.

Myra notices our silence. "Did that…cut too deep."

We both groan at the pun and Will laughs so hard he trips has he's running past, prompting most of us to burst out laughing whether we heard Myra's joke or not.

"Hey!" Four yells over our laughing. "Back to work, all of you."

I bite back a sarcastic comment and Tris and I continue with our sparing.

"You're getting stronger," I comment as I duck a punch.

Tris beams at the praise. "Thank you."

"I'd say you could probably give Peter a run for his money if you fought him now."

"Alright," she chuckles, "you don't have to stretch the truth that much." She lands a hit that knocks me off balance.

"It's not a lie." I retaliate with a kick to her legs. "I'm not the sort of person who flatters without a reason."

She snorts. "I've noticed."

I laugh at the figurative jab as I make a literal one.

"Quit pulling your punches you two," Four chides as he passes by us. "I've seen you both do better than that."

"Careful, Four," I drawl, ducking another punch, "that almost sounded like a compliment. Next thing you know you might be feeling the urge to actually be nice."

He lets out a sigh through his nose. "Ice Queen, that'll be five laps."

I shrug. "Yeah, that's fair."

As I start running, Christina slows down to let me catch up with her.

"Antagonizing him already?" she laughs.

I shrug. "Perhaps."

She hums. "Might just be the one thing that actually makes training entertaining."  
"Well, I am here to entertain."

She rolls her eyes. "Yeah, you and Will. I swear, the two of you are like the same person and I haven't decided if I love it or hate it."

I laugh. "Not really, I mean…" As I try to find reasons, I realize that she's right. Will and I are entirely too similar. "Whatever."

She giggles. "Oh, you know I'm right."

"Maybe so." I like Will well enough that being like him is actually a thought that I like. We have similar personalities I suppose, the same kind of humor and shared origins. As much as I pretend to tolerate him at best, he's someone that I can't help but like.

And speaking of, he falls back to keep in step with us.

"Don't you get bored of getting punished with laps?" he says, glancing over at Four. "You'd think by now he'd have gotten a little more creative."

I roll my eyes. "Don't give him any ideas. The last thing I need is him getting creative."

"You could just not antagonize him," Will suggests.

I laugh. "But where's the fun in that." The other two laugh with me and Will tips his head to the side like he's considering it.

"Yeah," he concedes, "that's fair I guess. It's certainly fun to watch."

"That's what I said," Christina agrees.

"Well, great minds do think alike." He grins.

"Oh of course," she agrees, snickering.

They're similar too, I think. In different ways though, ways that I for some reason find incredibly endearing. We spend the remainder of our training day just like that, joking. And, despite everything, all of us are able to laugh at least once.


	15. Chapter 15: Matters of Pride

After breakfast, my friends and I walk back to the training room, this time joined by Myra and I'm laughing so hard I can barely catch my breath. Edward split the moment he had to actually interact with Will, fell back with his other friends while Myra just shook her head in mock disappointment. Honestly, Will probably would have bounced too at the first sight of Edward if Christina hadn't quietly insisted he prove how 'not a big deal' their falling out really was.

He never can resist a challenge.

Monday means back to fighting, probably the single most loathsome thing I've encountered in initiation so far. I'd ask how this is supposed to make us any braver, but the last time someone questioned the relevance of Four's material to Dauntless life he got a gun to his head.

First and last time I ever felt bad for Peter.

Even though it's been several weeks, it hasn't gotten any easier for me. Don't get me wrong, I'm pretty good at it, but the guilt that comes along with every win is not totally insignificant. I'm not the only one who feels guilty, I know that Al's been throwing fights but I don't know how to talk to him about that or if he wants to talk about it at all. I don't want to talk him into doing something he doesn't want to do, but I don't want to see him cut either. I can't imagine life here without my friends because even on Eric and Four's worst days, they make it all bearable, they nip any thoughts that this might just not be worth it in the bud. I'm here for me, but I'm also here for them and we're supposed to help each other get through things, and we do. We all know that no one means anything by the punches, but sometimes it's even hard for me to make light of it.

So when Christina by the arm over like four different bruises as we walk into the training room, I take it as being meant affectionately no matter how much it makes me want to curl up and die.

"_ Mimi _," she breathes.

"What?" I try not to snap, rubbing my ribs.

She points toward the whiteboard, which usually isn't present until around lunch. But now it displays in big block letters that the first fight of the day will be between Peter and I.

And for a solid five seconds I genuinely consider turning around and walking out of the training room.

But that won't help anything, will it? It will only make me look like a coward, and make Eric hate me; which I've been trying really, really hard to avoid.

Four finishes writing out the rest of the matches on the board and then turns to us. "We'll be moving the fights up to this morning rather than in the afternoon, and then after lunch we'll have more practice with the knives." He glances at Tris. "I hope there won't be any more…incidents."

Peter and friends snicker and Tris blushes.

"Alright," Four says, "take your laps."

Out of the corner of my eye I see Peter looking at me, sizing me up. Neither of us are undefeated, that honor goes to Edward, but we're definitely on the better end of the fighting spectrum at least as far as the transfer class goes. Peter is half a head taller than me and has significantly more muscle mass, he also has no qualms with beating the fuck out of me. Even though it is Peter, I would still feel guilty if I really hurt him.

But I won't let this be an easy fight; if he wants to underestimate me then that's fine, that only works in my favor, but I won't go down easily.

Do I think I'll win? Not really, my pride would say that I've at least got a shot but that's not really true. He's probably going to put me in the infirmary and it's also only going to inflate his ego more, and that will suck. But I'm not Edward, I don't have the skill that he does. If it were Minerva in my place, she could win this, she was just like Edward at his age and maybe she would do so much better in Dauntless than I am; the fighting and the attitude, they might come more naturally to her than they do to me. After all, the Candor are loud and brash like the Dauntless just in a different way, not to mention that she's already got the main skill down. Or at least she did, I don't know if she keeps up the hobby anymore or if time and age have dulled that particular interest.

I wish I'd been like her, like Edward, I wish I'd come into this more prepared for what I was going to face. I wish that I'd always known where I would wind up like my siblings did, like everyone does. I guess overall I just wish I were a better Dauntless. It's not just about this one fight, it's about showing that I've learned something in my time here. I lose about as many fights as I win and it drives me nuts.

I'm not competitive like some people are, but I certainly have a drive to succeed; and though I've never expected to be ranked first, I know that to do the things that I want to – I have to – be better than most of the other initiates including the Dauntless-born.

I have to be better at something that I barely know how to do and really don't like to do amongst people who are far better equipped to perform the task and belong here in a way that I can only aspire to.

God, I am so boned.

We finish our laps and I'm filled with enough dread that my knees start shaking. Peter beat one of his friends to hell and back on the very first day and he hates me, he's not someone who I think is above seriously hurting me and I think that it's practically guaranteed to happen. Though I have a more animositous relationship with Four thank I do with Peter, we still hate each other and on more than one occasion I have said some things that seriously pissed him off. I have absolutely no doubt in my mind that he won't pay me back in kind for them.

"Peter, Ice Queen," Four says, waving us up onto the mat. "Let's go."

Christina puts her hand on my shoulder. "Good luck."

"I'll need it," I mutter.

"Nervous, Ice Queen?" Peter says with a wolfish grin.

Despite my nerves, I still find it in me to scoff at him. "Not in the slightest, not when I know I'll wipe the floor with you." I grin right back at him.

"Cut the banter and fight already," Four snaps.

Peter makes the first move as I expected him to, with the same punch that struck Tris only seconds into their fight. It's aimed at my jaw but I block it with my arm. Pain blossoms from it, but unlike getting hit in the jaw I'm able to stay upright. I aim a punch at his throat and he blocks that, it seems that we've both been watching each other because I always go for the throat first and he's the first one to pick up on that. I slide just out of his range when he kicks at my side and I try to grab him like he did to Tris but he pulls back with considerable strength and I lose my grip.

"Will one of you land a fucking hit already!" Eric jeers.

Peter's mouth twists into a snarl and he aims a punch at my stomach at the same moment I attempt to sweep his feet out from under him. I don't exactly succeed, he lurches and the punch meant for my stomach actually connects with my thigh.

His reflexes are quick enough that he practically bounces back to his feet the moment his hands touch the ground and he comes up swinging. I lean backward to dodge the punch that would have hit me in the face and step back in an attempt to put some distance between us. I don't want to kick at him because I saw how that worked out with Tris when she fought him; or rather, how it didn't. I don't have the body mass to tackle him, my best bet is to just keep punching and dodging, and not letting him back me into a corner come hell or high water.

I fake to the right and then punch him in the kidney with my left hand when he shifts his guard. My left may not be as strong, but I've been practicing and it pays off in his pained wheeze. I take advantage of his momentary stumble and punch him in the sternum. Or I would have if he hadn't caught my arm before I could make contact. I try to wrench out of his grip but he yanks me forward and I lose my balance when he lets go, falling on my side. I scramble backward to buy me a few seconds to get back to my feet, but Peter grabs my ankle and pulls me forward and back onto my back. I lace my fingers together behind my head before I hit the mat and it hurts my hands like hell but it doesn't hurt my head. I kick forward with the ankle that he holds and swing my other leg up to his knee, kicking it as hard as I can to the side. It bends reflexively and he loses his balance. I manage to twist in his grip and get him to let go of me, getting back to my feet as quickly as possible and then I punch him in the face. I manage to hit him in the jaw before he can raise his arm to protect himself. His head snaps to the side but he still swings and hits me in the stomach, knocking the wind out of me. I force myself not to double over like I did in my first fight, not looking for a repeat of that incident and instead hit him back as fast as I can, my blow glancing off his shoulder.

We keep exchanging blows and at some point my nose starts bleeding. I hit Peter almost directly in the eye once and even he can't stop the guttural noise of pain. I know that I can't let him knock me off my feet, not if I want to win this fight. It's not just about scoring points, it's about knocking this asshole down a peg because I can't stand to see how smug he is going into every single goddamn fight. Even when Edward wipes the floor with him, he still acts like he's god's gift to fighting or something.

I punch him in the face and my already bruised knuckles hurt even more than they already did, but it's worth it when I see the bright red blood drip from his nose. I flash him a smile and his mouth twists into a snarl.

"You're gonna pay for that, Ice Queen," he murmurs and then lunges at me.

I turn and try to step away from him but he grabs my arm and drags me down to the ground. He elbows me in the throat and it stuns me for a second. I thrash, attempting to get out of his grip as he tries to pin me. I knee him in the stomach and he groans, retaliating with a punch to the mouth. I take a page from Edward's book and headbutt him in the chin, though it twists the arm he still has pinned in a painful way. His head snaps back and I think his lip splits, though it's hard to tell with the way that my head spins. My determination to win begins to wane as the desire to simply lie down and fall asleep grows stronger.

I keep trying to struggle out from under him but he smacks my ear with the flat of his palm and it rings. Pain blossoms in my right temple as I'm sure that my head is knocked into the mat again. He shifts over me and puts one of his legs on my chest to further pin me; I wheeze under the full weight of him. He releases my arm for a second and I punch him in the stomach. Most of his weak points are hard to hit at this angle and though pain flashes across his face for a second I can imagine it feels nearly as bad as him punching me in the jaw. He almost casually swats my hands away in order to grab my braid, lifting my head only to slam it back down into the mat. Colorful dots dance across my vision like fireworks and I suddenly want to puke very, very badly.

"Get on with it already," says Eric, though it sounds like he's been submerged in water, or maybe I have. The corners of my vision are beginning to darken and I'm fighting as much as I can but I can't seem to get him off me. Or maybe I'm not moving at all and only imagining it.

One of Peter's freezing hands wrap around my throat like a vice and I can now hardly move at all. Those dark patches are growing much larger and I feel nothing but tired now.

His fist comes at my face and I close my eyes before it even connects.

When I wake up, I'm in the infirmary alone. I sit up and regret it immediately, a wave of nausea passing over me and the lights seeming to grow brighter. I groan miserably and draw my legs up closer to my chest to rest my head on my knees.

"Hey, Sweetpea." The door creaks open and I look up, just barely opening my eyes.

Nurse Phyllis smiles at me and brings me an icepack. "How are you feeling."

I press the icepack to my forehead, smiling slightly at the small relief that the cold brings. "Like I've been hit by a truck."

"I figured. I'll grab you something for the pain."

"Where are my friends?"

She glances over her shoulder back at me, smiling. "I'm sure they'll be around soon. They had to go back to training, but they seemed really worried. You've got good friends, Sol had to practically shove the string bean boy and the tiny girl who grabbed the flag Friday night out the door."

I smile.

"They were pretty set on staying with you. You've got good friends, Mimi."

"I know. They're really great."

Nurse Phyllis hands me two round white pills and a glass of water.

"Lay back down," she says. "You should try and rest while you can. You took one hell of a beating."

I do as she says, but I don't get back to sleep. At some point, the medication kicks in and my head stops throbbing. I don't entirely feel better, but I'm not as miserable as I was when I woke up. As I lay there I wish that there was a window or something down here, I hadn't really noticed how closed in all of this was. I had almost forgotten that we're underground. I miss seeing the sky all the time, there were a lot of windows in pretty much every building in the Erudite sector so it wasn't something I had ever considered I wouldn't have.

And I guess that's something else I can put on the ever-growing list of things that I miss about Erudite I had never even considered when I left.

"Mimi." Christina's hand falls on my arm and I turn over onto my back, smiling up at her.

"Christ," Will gasps.

"That bad, huh?" I ask.

"Worse," Will says.

"Will!" Christina exclaims.

"We brought you some lunch, Mimi." Tris hands me a sandwich as I sit up.

"And Four's expecting you back for training this afternoon," Al adds.

"Of course he is." I roll my eyes and bite into my sandwich.

"So." Christina sits down on the edge of my bed. "You got your ass kicked."

"But I was the one being blunt." Will rolls his eyes and sits down next to her. "However, you did give Peter hell. He's sure to be bitching up a blue streak for the next week or so."

"Good. If only that would have been enough to shut him up. He's never gonna fuckin let this go."

"Yeah." Christina rubs my back but stops when I wince. "But look on the bright side."

I stare at her, waiting for her to continue her sentence and she looks away awkwardly, biting her lip.

"You know, usually when you say 'look on the bright side' you're supposed to also include the bright side," Will says, snickering.

"Yeah. I know." Christina laughs with him and the rest of us do too after a second.

Laughing makes my chest and head ache in horrible, horrible unison but I try not to let it show. Instead I just shift my ice pack slightly to press the cold to another part of my head.

"So how were the rest of the fights?" I ask. "Please tell me I'm not the only one of us who lost."

Christina glares at Will. "Yeah, this one kicked my ass."

"I did," Will says proudly.

"You couldn't beat Will?" I give Christina an incredulous look.

"I know!" Al adds. "I couldn't believe it either."

Christina shakes her head. "Bastard's tougher than he looks. But," she holds up her fingers in a 'pause' gesture. "I think I've finally figured out how to stop losing. I just need to stop getting punched in the jaw."

Will laughs. "Yeah, just stop. Don't let it happen."

We laugh and Christina rolls her eyes. "You know what I meant."

He snorts. "Well, I think we all now know why you aren't Erudite; not terribly bright, are you." He taps the side of Christina's head and she swats his hand away.

"Will," Tris says, "you were the first one to get knocked out, remember? I think you're the last person who should be doling out fighting tips."

Will flushes and grumbles under his breath much to my amusement. But Al looks away and shrinks in on himself. He must still feel bad about doing that to him. I wish that there were some way that I could impress on him that we don't really have much of a choice in the matter. It sucks but we can't just not fight, not if we want to make it through initiation.

Christina laughs. "Tris, was that an insult I heard? You're really developing a bite." She affectionately punches Tris in the arm.

"Ha, ha. Ow."

"Just you wait, she'll be tearing out emotional jugulars in no time," I say, still giggling despite the ache in my chest.

Tris laughs and shakes her head. "No, that's just you."

I fake pout. "You make me sound so mean."

"That's because you are mean," Will says quickly, giggling.

"Oh whatever." I roll my eyes while grinning. A moment of silence passes and then I say, "Did I at least look kind of cool while I was getting the shit kicked out of me?"

"Cooler than I looked probably," Tris says. "You fought him for a lot longer anyways."

"A loss is a loss." I'm surprised at how bitter my voice sounds when I say that. I've always been a little competitive, but never a sore loser and really never even close to the way other competitive people I know are. I've always thought of myself as someone who takes their losses in stride, learns from them and tries to do better next time. Maybe this is just different because it's someone I hate, because I know that he's going to be rubbing it in for probably the rest of initiation; he hurt me, the medication and the ice pack are helping but it doesn't change the fact that I'm in pain and I'm really going to be in pain later. What happened during capture the flag doesn't matter anymore, if anything that was just another testament to where my real skills lie. I'm no brute, combat and force aren't my forte, but strategy is. Maybe that's helped by my Divergence, I'm smarter than most but more importantly I'm better at thinking things through than most of my Dauntless peers because that's the Erudite in me.

Not that it matters. None of it matters if I can't get my shit together and do as I'm supposed to.

"Okay so not to be the bearer of bad news," Al says, "but we should probably be getting back to training."

I sigh heavily. "This is gonna suck."

"Here." Christina stands and holds both her hands out to me. I swing my legs over the side of the bed and take them. Her hands are just as calloused as mine, knuckles split in the same places. Her touch is also rather surprisingly warm, though I guess that can be chalked up to the fact that I've been clutching an ice pack and my own hands are probably freezing. She half pulls me to my feet as the soreness and nausea hits me immediately.

Something must have changed in my face because she gives me a concerned look and says, "You okay?"

I would nod but I feel like that would only make it worse. "Ugh, I will be. I just…need a second." Will puts his hand on my back, absent-mindedly rubbing back and forth as he keeps his eyes trained on my face.

"You sure you're not going to pass out?" There's no hint of teasing in his tone.

"Would you catch me if I did?" I say half-jokingly.

"I would try." There's something very earnest and sincere in his voice and not that I think he would ever intentionally let me get hurt, but I really believe that he would catch me if I passed out this second.

"I'll be fine," I say, realizing that I had never actually responded.

"Are you sure you're okay, Mimi?" There's no room for Tris to get close to me so she lingers a couple feet away next to Al but the two are very clearly concerned.

"Just a little ache-y, I'll be okay though." I glance at Christina and then at our still clasped hands. "You can let go, I can stand on my own."

Her eyes widen like she'd forgotten we'd even been holding hands and she lets go quickly. At the same moment, Will's hand stops moving on my back and he pulls away. If I didn't know better I would swear he was blushing.

Good thing I know better.

Though it hurts like hell and I would _so _much rather just keep lying there in the infirmary, I walk with the others back to training. We push open the double doors to find everyone else already there.

"Hey, Ice Queen," Peter shouts. "how're those bruises treatin' ya?"

I grimace and roll my eyes, a 'fight me' on my lips but I think better of saying it. Instead I opt for, "Fuck off, Peter."

I grab my knives and take aim at the target.

"Ooh, someone's prickly," Peter continues with his mocking. "What're you gonna do?" He grins. "Fight me?"

Oh, it's going to be a long afternoon.

I'm desperately in need of some time alone after training is done mostly due to Peter's non-stop gloating making me more than a little bit snappish. I wave off my friends, telling them that I just need to be alone and though they look concerned they let me go without too much fuss.

I'm not sure which is bruised more, my body or my pride. I've never claimed to be the best fighter but I can't help but feel a little bit pathetic after that. Worst of all, Peter knows he gets to me. I cut my hand during target practice because I wasn't paying attention to how I held the knife thanks to his constant ribbing that I just couldn't block out. He has no right to get to me as much as he does; I should be focusing on training and trying to improve rather than some bully who isn't even the best fighter in the class, who's gotten his ass handed to him by Edward more than once.

I'm embarrassed and angry and generally just miserable. I want to believe that everything here is going to be okay and things are going to work out fine for me in the end. I want to believe that I am stronger than a loss, than that asshole and his taunting, than everything that I've faced in initiation so far. But it doesn't take a fucking genius to figure out that I'm no good at fighting, and the notion of hurting my fellow initiates to the point of knocking them unconscious still really rubs me the wrong way.

It's not just the fight, not really. I'm afraid; I'm afraid in a way that no Dauntless should be. I don't want to hurt people and I really, really don't want to hurt my friends. Despite what I said about wanting to deck Four, I don't know if I could ever really do that and not just because he's a more experienced fighter than I am. And then of course, there's the looming specter of failure that comes back with a vengeance every time I lose a fight. We don't know anything about our rankings so I don't really know where I stand, but that doesn't stop the acute feeling of fear in the pit of my stomach that I'm going to be the one who gets cut. All it takes is for my losses to outweigh my wins and I've crossed that line. I'm not like Peter or Edward, I'm always in a delicate balance of my wins and losses being pretty evenly matched and it scares the hell out of me. I'm stronger than I was that first day, but that doesn't mean I'm making anything close to steady improvement or that I'm improving at all. Everything just feels so delicate and I have absolutely no safety net should I stop being able to just barely eke by; my instructors certainly don't like me, or at the very least they don't care about me, and I have no other Dauntless-like qualities that might give them a reason to keep me around. At least Tris has that going for her, she might not be the best fighter but she has intrinsic parts of her personality that make her inherently _Dauntless _.

I don't know what makes me Dauntless, what put that on my Aptitude Test. I don't even know what it means to be Dauntless, or what a Dauntless thinks and acts like. All the Dauntless adults I've encountered so far – save for the medical staff, whom I barely know – have struck me as people to avoid becoming at all costs rather than people I can find commonalities with.

I would go back to the dorm and get my journal, pour all my thoughts out there just like I always do, but I don't want to run into anyone or be around other people. I'd rather keep my misery inside my head than let other people see it.

I wander through the halls until I eventually make my way back to the Pit.

I come out on the top floor and make my way over to the balcony, leaning against it and watching the activity on the floors below. All these people here, Dauntless is their home and for many it's the only home they've ever known. They all belong here and all I want is to be like them. I wish I knew more, I wish we'd learned more about other factions in school, I wish Gwendolyn would have talked about what things were like before Erudite, I wish my family weren't so disapproving of them. It's oddly painful knowing for certain that no one in my family wants me to be here, that the only possible way I could have disappointed them more would have been by choosing Abnegation. I still love them, their support would still mean the world to me especially now that I just feel so alone I would give anything for something familiar to hold onto.

I guess that's what it all circles back to, I just want to _fit _somewhere. It's always fuckin' something that makes me stick out, whether it's because I've never been good enough, or I'm not strong enough, or smart enough, or just because I _know _I'm an outsider and I know that there are things that separate me from the rest and I can't stop thinking about them.

And I don't believe in fate but somehow I've found myself wrapped up in all these other fairy tales that I keep finding myself weirdly attached to; that your faction is meant to be your family, that everyone finds something in their faction, that everybody fits somewhere. If anything, I should be living proof that exactly none of that is true.

I didn't even realize I was crying until the tears start dripping off my chin and onto my hands, which grip the railing so tightly that my knuckles turn white. I shiver even though it's quite warm and try to swallow the lump on my throat.

The person behind me could not have picked a worse moment to put their hand on my shoulder.

I go completely rigid and flush with embarrassment, suddenly realizing how pathetic I must look brooding and crying up here.

"Hey," Marlene says, moving around to my side but keeping her hand on my shoulder. She gives me a sympathetic smile and says, "Having a cry?"

The first words I choke out are, "Well this is humiliating."

"What?" She gives me a quizzical look. "Do the Erudite not cry or something?"

That wasn't what I expected her to say. I'm so stunned that I laugh, it's weak but it's a laugh nonetheless. I wipe my wet cheeks. "Not really, no; and they certainly don't do it where they can be seen."

I haven't seen my siblings cry since we were children; and I think I've seen my parents cry once or twice ever, _combined _. The Erudite believe that getting emotional to the point that it brings you to tears is a sign of weakness, which of course is to be avoided at all costs. Weakness and ignorance go hand in hand, as I've heard more than enough adult Erudite say.

I look up at her again. "Wait, how did you know I transferred from Erudite?" I don't recall ever mentioning that to her.

"Lucky guess." She shrugs. "Plus it's kind of obvious; all you transfers may be able to fight now but that's not all being Dauntless is."

I remember thinking once how we all still had the looks and mannerisms of our old factions, but while pretty much everyone else has begun to let go of that at least through their appearance, I haven't yet.

I turn my gaze back to the Pit. "I'll take your word for it. I've got no clue what being Dauntless even means." I don't realize how bad that sounded until the words are out of my mouth. I essentially just revealed that I don't belong here at all to a girl I've had one other conversation with, who I like well enough but barely know.

But she still looks at me with that sincerely sympathetic smile and then she laughs, lightly and good naturedly, her hand on my shoulder squeezing tight for a second. "You're _way _overthinking it, first of all. We're not Noses, there's no formula to follow or anything; everyone just kind of does their own thing."

I give her a quizzical look. "'Noses'?"

"Erudite. Get it, cause they're nosy as hell and stuck up?"

I swallow my irritation and laugh politely. I shouldn't find that so insulting, I'm not one of them so it shouldn't matter to me. But it does, something about it just grates on me for some reason.

"Yeah I mean, you know how it is I'm sure, they're all kinda…same-y; the walk, the talk, the attitude."

I want to tell her that she's wrong, but I also don't want it to seem like I'm defending my old faction. Also, I know that she's kind of right; Erudite has a lot of unspoken rules on how one is supposed to look and act, which is part of the reason why some transfers have such a hard time. I guess in some ways we – they, _dammit _– had the same uniformity that Abnegation does, it just looks a little different.

"There's like…a formula, a fuckin' ten step program or whatever. Point is, they've got a 'look' going and it extends into how they act and it's a pretty big deal obviously." I hadn't even really noticed it before, or at least I've never really thought about it that way. In my mind it had always just been propriety, I had never really thought about how different factions had their own ideas of what it meant to be proper and polite. I guess Marlene is a lot more observant than I thought.

"Dauntless isn't like that. We don't do that whole conformity thing." She nods out toward the Pit to emphasize her point. "No two people look alike really, and everyone's got a different idea about 'what it means to be Dauntless'. Really it's kind of a mess, but it works for us."

"And what do you think it means to be Dauntless, Marlene?"

She runs her fingers through her hair, still gazing out at the Pit. "I don't really think it matters, not like you're thinkin' it does. We don't…bother with all the philosophical stuff, we just live and leave the thinking to the Erudite." She sighs. "I guess what I'm getting at here is that we're all a little different and really there is no one way to be Dauntless. You just kinda…do you and see where that takes you. That's why our faction manifesto's so vague I think, we're all meant to interpret it in our own way."

"You've memorized your faction manifesto?"

She blushes and looks back at me. "Uh, yeah…I just think it's kind of pretty, you know?"

"No, I don't." We read over the different faction manifestos in school, though I never found them especially interesting and certainly not interesting enough to memorize. I would also never describe the Erudite manifesto as 'pretty'; much like our apparent aesthetic, it's all very formulaic in tone with very clear guidelines on how things are meant to be. It's a practical and precise legislative document, as it should be, though I guess Dauntless sees theirs differently.

"It's, uh…" she snaps her fingers, searching for the right word. "I guess you could say that it's kind of, uh, poetic, I guess. It's kind of…a list of things that we as Dauntless believe in but they're real open to interpretation and everyone interprets them differently. I like to think that was kind of the point, each to their own and whatever." She flushes and laughs awkwardly. "Wow, I sound like a real Nose, don't I? Here I am giving you shit for it when I'm over here giving a fucking in-depth analysis of our faction manifesto."

"No, it's really interesting," I assure her. "And do what you want, each to their own, right?"

She stares at me for a second, her eyes wide and there's traces of both curiosity and fear. "I…uh…yeah…" We're silent for a moment, both of us watching the ever-changing scene in the Pit.

Marlene stops leaning against the railing and looks at me. "Hey, Mimi."

"Yes?"

She hugs me and after a moment of surprise I hug her back.

"Just so you know," she says right against my ear, "we aren't like the Erudite, no one's going to think less of you for crying."

_Actually I can think of quite a few people who would _, I respond mentally. But out loud I say, "Okay." And I think of the casual way that she approached me, there was nothing awkward or judgmental about her seeing me cry, not even pitying. I haven't the slightest clue what to make of that.

She lets go of me. "We don't really do the whole emotionless thing. You know, hiding from your feelings is just as bad as hiding from any physical problem; and, as I'm sure you've figured out by now, the Dauntless aren't very big on hiding."

Her smile is kind of contagious in its own way, so when she grins at me I can't help but return it.

"Yeah, I know." Testing the waters with a real laugh I say, "But then how do you explain Four?"

She snorts. "Fuck if I know. The guy's managed to remain a mystery after two years, at this point I would not in any way be surprised if he turned out to be a robot."

I try to do my best impression of his gruff and mostly monotone voice. "Beep bop, punch each other more." I giggle but try to remain mostly serious. "Fuck you, I'm not going to use your name; my programing dictates that I must be a total ass at all times beep boop."

Marlene laughs harder, wiping a tear from her eye. "Wait, is that not like a thing between you two?"

"Fuck no, it's not a thing. I don't know why he won't call me by my name and it irritates the shit out of me."

She gives me another sympathetic look but continues to giggle but after another minute concern works its way back onto her face. "Are you sure you're doing okay?"

"Better since you came over. Thanks, Mar."

"Of course, what are friends for?"

Like with Tris and the others, I barely know her; our bond isn't like the one I had with Casey, Kira, and Eliza, built on years of shared experiences. But if nothing else, initiation sure knows how to drive people together; I can't possibly imagine going through all of this alone.

She walks away and I am left alone again, but feeling far less abjectly miserable than I was before. I stay up there for a little while longer, watching the people in the Pit, then I turn away and go back down the hallways I came to find my friends before dinner.


	16. Chapter 16: Couldn't Be More Different

_ September 27th Year 499, _

_Today is Mark's birthday, he's twenty-six today and in the past, when we could, my family had tried to celebrate birthdays together. It's not like it's something that people question, even though 'faction before blood' exists it's not like there aren't other families like mine. This is the first time I haven't been there, and even though there's nothing that I can do about it I still feel bad. _

_I miss my family so much and a very miniscule part of me just wants to go home and be with them, and my friends, and for things to go back to the way they were. And I know - I know that that can't happen, I can never go back and things will never be the same again but everything here is terrifying and I would give anything to just go home and have some kind of reprieve from it all. But I've made my choice and now my only other one is factionlessness; and it's not that I'm unhappy, I like it here well enough. I just want something familiar. I wonder if this was how the others - Mark, Minerva, Gwendolyn, and Maureen - felt after they first transferred. I know that Dauntless is different, but any kind of change is huge. _

_I've seen Amity before, spent time up there without my parents and I know all the ways that it's different from Erudite. But it's familiar to me in a way, like another home. My extended family was always more than welcoming to me and my friends. When my great-aunt Sophie was alive she just adored us and when my family would go up to spend time with her and her children she would always ask when I would bring my lovely little friends around again. She was a very happy, very friendly woman but also always kind of lonely. Her husband died long before I was born and so did most of her siblings and their spouses. I only got to know my great-uncle Dexter, but that was almost twelve years ago and I barely remember him. My mother's parents both died long before I was born as well; my grandpa - Leon - when Mark was two and my grandmother - Ruby - when he was eight. My father's parents stuck around a little longer, long enough for them to know me as a very small child, but I can't remember them; all I know of them is from pictures, Minerva looks a lot like my grandma Carmilla with her long hair and broad shoulders. _

_I've always wondered if Casey's choice was at all influenced by all the time she spent around Amity through me. My mother's Amity-born and raised cousins came to visit her just as much as she went to see them and they've always been the aunts and uncles I never had. It was nice, after my brother transferred I saw even more of them and I think they quietly always expected another one of us to transfer. I wonder if Marilyn, my mom's cousin's daughter who I've always been super close to, talks to Casey at all. On the few occasions I took her and Eliza up with me, or Marilyn came to Erudite, they seemed to get along pretty well. Marilyn is gentle, and kind, and good like Casey is. _

_I really hope that Casey's doing alright. I miss her just as much as I miss my family and I want to see her again so badly. It's not like I didn't see her leaving coming – I didn't see my leaving coming – and I was prepared to say goodbye. Hell, I did say goodbye when I met up with her in the Commons after the Aptitude Test. We had our last little group moment before everything changed forever and I couldn't ask for anything else. I couldn't have asked for better friends in general and I feel so lucky to have gotten to be a part of their lives, I just wish that we'd had more time together. I'll always miss her I think, all of them, just like I'll always miss my family because those ties are so deep and we're so close. Or at least we were. _

_And I know that I'm supposed to move on, that I will move on, that we'll all move on because that's just what time does; but I don't want to let go and I certainly don't want to forget. The friends I've made here are great, but I just don't think they'll ever replace what Kira, Casey, and Eliza were to me. _

_We'll have longer together, time to bond and time to grow even closer. We have our whole lives ahead of us and I have every confidence that we'll always be together; we'll grow up, and learn to be Dauntless, and wonder why we ever worried. Or at least that's the dream, that's the way I've always been told things are supposed to be. Everyone belongs somewhere, everyone finds something in their faction, everyone finds themselves in their faction. But I can't seem to figure out what I've found, where I belong; I know that I should be patient, that things will fall into place all in due time as they always do. But I really don't believe in fate and I hate the idea of just letting life slip through my fingers without a care. That's probably not what people mean when they say things like that everything will eventually fall into place, but that's what it sounds like and it irks me to an almost comical degree. I just feel like I have to take control of my life and be who I want to be; not what I think I am, or what's the easiest thing to be, but the sort of person I want to be and how I want to live my life. _

_But I don't know. I'd always imagined myself in Erudite, that seemed like where I was bound to choose, and that had made me so happy up until very recently. My test changed everything; I had a vision before, it was vague and it never quite felt as right as people say choosing where you truly belong feels, but now I'm questioning if I belong anywhere at all. _

_I didn't feel like I could be happy in Erudite, so I left; but now I'm teetering just on the edge of miserable here in Dauntless. My only other option would have been Amity and while I might not have gone through the sort of trials that Dauntless and Erudite use to vet their initiates, I can't imagine it ever being anything close to easy. If my friendship with Will has taught me anything, it's that I really cannot resist being just a little mean to my friends, even though it's all in good fun. And on top of that, I have no patience for people like Four and Peter; I tolerate Eric because his approval may help me further down the line, but I detest him and have never hesitated to talk about it with my friends. I'm not Casey, or Mark, or Marilyn; I'm not especially gentle or kind, I'm polite and I care about other people but I just don't have it in me to just grin and bear the nth degree of complete bullshit like the Amity do. Aside from Abnegation, no other faction has hard rules against telling people to fuck off if they're annoying you and I certainly enjoy that. I just can't deal like they can. Mark – I swear on my life – can and does smile through anything and everything to the point where it actually kind of stops being friendly and circles right back around to unnerving. He's always kind of been like that, diplomatic and patient even when he doesn't have to be. I'll bet that serves him really well as a faction representative, but I could never be like that. _

_I don't even think I want to. I want to be kind, but I'm no doormat and I wouldn't have it any other way. Divergence aside, I actually like the way that I am. I don't have to be defined by it either; if I don't tell anyone, if I just live my life honestly, I'm bound to do things that will define the sort of person that I am a lot more than a word and a few percentages ever could. _

"Hey, Mimi." My train of thought is broken by Christina, who's leaning against my bunk.

I snap my journal shut and look up at her with near fear in my eyes. People aren't usually in the dorms until it's near lights out. I'd been with my friends in the Pit up until a few hours ago. This isn't the first time someone's seen me write in my journal, but it's always been something that I'd been doing when they walked in. Christina is my friend, but I very obviously brought this journal from Erudite and I don't know what she makes of that.

"Yeah?" I fidget sort of nervously with the end of my braid.

"I was just going to ask if you wanted to come with us to get desert. One of the, uh, the Dauntless-born offered to show us one of the better cafés in the compound. They're supposed to serve really good desert.

"Sure thing." I smile, but pause when I realize that I can't put my journal back without her seeing where I hide it.

"I'll catch up with you in just a moment, okay," I say, hoping to god that she agrees.

She gives me a confused look and then shrugs. "Sure. Guess I should have figured you'd want to put your book back wherever you hide it."

"Uh, what?"

She gives me an amused look. "Candor, remember? And it doesn't take a genius to figure out that you brought that book from Erudite. Not that it matters to me very much." She adds on the last part when she notices the alarm on my face. She strolls out of the room and I shove my journal back under the mattress, then catch up with Christina.

"So what do you write about, If you don't mind me asking," she says.

"It's just a diary. Um, it's kind of a habit I've had for a few years now and it feels weird when I don't keep it up."

She nods. "Cool. You know, I never thought of you as the sort of person to keep a diary."

"My mother got my first one for me when I was twelve, she wanted to see if it would help me let out my emotions" I shrug. "I guess it works."

"So what's that like anyways, being a faction leader's daughter?"

"I mean, as amazing as she is, I don't really think of my mom like other people do. I mean yeah, she's this incredible figure with all this power and influence and it's really amazing all that she's managed to amount to, but like she's still my mom. We're close and we care about each other."

She nods. "My mom's a lawyer, so I guess I can kind of relate. I mean she's not really on the level that your mom is, but I know what it's like to look up to your parents." She chuckles half-heartedly. "Though I guess we're not really doing much to live up to their legacies, huh?"

That stings a lot more than she knows, I have to fight a grimace as I say, "Yeah. But I've never really tried to compare myself to my mom. She was always doing a lot more at my age, so it's not like I can expect to compare." I decide to change the subject. "So are you excited for Visiting Day?"

She shrugs. "More nervous than anything. I know they aren't really all that happy with the fact that I left and, you know...they're Candor." She sighs. "I just don't want to deal with her and my dad critiquing every single little thing."

"I know the feeling, believe me." My parents are snobs, I've always known it. They look down on everything that isn't Erudite, but in their eyes there is something inherently less respectable about Abnegation and Dauntless; something that's worthy of scorn and mockery. I'm not going to pretend like my siblings aren't like this, like I'm not the exact same way just with different subjects. I've always thought that people like Eric, Four, Peter, even Dahlia, are just kind of worthless. They don't seem to have any role or purpose other than to antagonize and to hurt, because it brings them some kind of sick enjoyment.

And my family's views have sort of rubbed off on me; I have no love for Abenagtion certainly. I don't like everything they do and I don't really like the faction all that much honestly. As much as I care for Tris, I still can't help but find Abnegation dull and their council to be overreaching and out of touch.

But that's neither here nor there.

My parents don't like Dauntless very much, this I know to be true. They've never liked Dauntless and I know that they never wanted me here. I don't know what Visiting Day will be like; I know that they'll be there, but I have a hard time thinking that they'll be entirely pleasant about it.

"I guess we'll just have to deal with our families and their opinions together." She smiles at me and I return that.

Out in the Pit the light is different; whiter, duller. Up above, storm clouds gather and rain starts to drizzle on the glass. I pause for a moment, my head tilted back and a small smile on my face.

"What?" Christina says.

I glance at her. "It's just…pretty."

It reminds me of Erudite in a way; the natural light that came in through all the windows changed when it would rain. I used to like to sit in the library and just admire the way that the light filtered through the glass dome. Snow too, it was just one of the things that I loved about Erudite. The little things, the things you don't understand if you aren't there.

"Come on." Christina takes my hand and tugs me along, chuckling under her breath. "The others are waiting."

I follow, but trust her to lead me along as I can't stop my gaze from going skyward – or skylight-ward rather. Maybe I feel just a little bit ridiculous admiring it as much as I am, but it's hard to help when it's just so pretty.

We meet up with Tris, Will, and Al, plus Marlene and her Dauntless-born friends by one of the outcroppings and by that time I've managed to stop staring, mostly. Uriah leads the way to this little café on the fourth floor of the Pit; all the lights are dim and colored, and the whole place smells like coffee and smoke. We take up the black sectional couch in the corner of the room. There's barely enough room for all of this; Marlene is in Uriah's lap and I'm squeezed in between Christina and Al with barely enough room to move my arms.

"The cake here is great," Uriah says, "like even better than the dining hall great."

"How did you find this place?" Will asks.

"My brother spends a lot of time in here, he's good friends with some of the baristas and stuff."

"Ay, Uriah!" one of the baristas behind the counter exclaims almost on cue. Uriah grins and gives a friendly little wave.

"'M I gonna be seeing you here when you're done with initiation?"

He shrugs. "Dunno."

"Who're your friends?" says another barista, this one with the thickest black eyeliner I've ever seen.

"Eh, just a couple of transfers who happen to be pretty cool."

"We'll be the judge of that," says the first, grinning.

We go up in small groups to get food, every time someone sits back down it jostles the people around them and when Uriah flops back down after ordering, Al's coffee splashes onto my lap. I grimace and Al gives me an apologetic look.

"Sorry," he says.

"It's fine." I stand up. "I needed an excuse to get up and go order anyways."

I order a coffee, very much like the kind in the dining hall it's not quite as good as the Erudite coffee. But it's plenty good. I return to the couch, wedging myself next to Christina.

For once, we manage to talk about something that isn't initiation. The things that we actually like and used to do with our free time before we were confined to the dull group coffins that are the dorm rooms. It's nice, normal, something that we haven't really had a lot of over the last month between crazy instructors and crazier activities. Our laughter fills the little café and every so often the baristas will lean over the counter to interject with stories of their own, each one seeming crazier than the last. My sides hurt from laughing so hard and I can't seem to catch my breath, though the people around me are no better really.

We must hang around there for an hour at least, long enough for all of us to finish our drinks and the ice left in Christina's blood red iced tea to all melt. Then we leave and the rain outside is coming down even harder. I see a flash of lightning and for just a second I'm enraptured again by the sight and the muffled roar of thunder that follows. Then my hand is in Christina's again and she's pulling me along, grinning and laughing at Lynn's joke that I wasn't quite listening to.

One of their other friends whose name I don't know scales the rough and notched stone, spurred on by the cheers of the Dauntless-born and eventually the rest of us too. Literally he just puts his foot in a little notch in the wall where the circuit's wall becomes slightly flatter and starts to climb. He finds hand and footholds I otherwise would have never noticed and uses just his arms to pull himself up with enough momentum it sends him two feet higher. He reaches the level above us and we let out a rousing cheer, as do a few passersby. He pulls himself up on the guardrail and stands, raising his arms in triumph. Then he tilts forward, his arms spread to either side of him and Christina, Will, Tris, Al, and I gasp but the Dauntless-born don't seem worried and apparently they were right as he grabs the railing at the last second and swings.

"He does this all the time," Uriah says. "Trained in it."

"That's," Will sputters as he looks for the right word. "That's fucking absurd."

Tris – because of course it's Tris – flashes him a wild grin, her eyes wide and bright. "Welcome to Dauntless."

Will raises his eyebrow at her. "You wanna scale that wall?"

"Oh absolutely not," she says with a laugh. "I'd die and so would you." She looks up again as the boy flings himself all the way over the railing onto the floor. "But still, it's incredible."  
He disappears for a second and then leans far over the railing, bending at the waist to fold over the bar. He gestures for us to cheer again and we do. Then he curls his fingers like he's beckoning us up.

Marlene seems to think that too because she turns to Uriah and says, "Boost me up."

"Oh hell no." He shakes his head. "I'm not about to be an accessory to your crazy death wish."

She pouts. "You're no fun." She can hardly hold the expression for more than a few seconds before she starts laughing.

"She's right," the boy calls down. "Since when are you the boring responsible one, Uriah?"

He scoffs. "That's low, you two."

"Well," Marlene folds her arms, "prove us wrong then."

He laughs, and shakes his head, and then weaves his fingers together and stoops for Marlene to boost herself up off of him. She wobbles and Lynn reaches out to steady her with a laugh that contradicts the nerves that show on her face.

The other boy hangs off of the railing and offers her his hand. She stretches up to reach him and their fingers just barely manage to grab hold of each other. She uses Uriah's shoulders as a springboard and he stumbles, Lynn having to steady him this time as Marlene's lifted into the open air by the other boy.

"Show off," Lynn calls up to him, rolling her eyes.

He laughs and his grip on Marlene's hands slackens for a second and she shrieks, but it tightens before she can slip completely and he jerks her up to stand on the outside ledge. She laughs and turns around to grin, gripping the railing and leaning forward. The boy keeps his hands over Marlene's and Uriah and Lynn's expressions darken.

"Come on, you two, you've had your thrills," Uriah calls of to them. "Can you come down now."

Marlene laughs and leans forward yelling, "Catch!" She lets go much to the panic of pretty much everyone.

Uriah scrambles forward and manages to catch her sort of, but it's more like cushioning her fall than anything else and Lynn helps them both back to their feet with a kind of amused exasperation.

The other boy climbs down without needing to throw himself over and is descent is just as impressive as his ascent. He wipes the bits of stone from his calloused hands as he reaches the ground accompanied by a well-timed clap of thunder. Then we continue our circuit through the Pit, without any more climbing thankfully. We eventually wind up occupying one of the stone tables on the ground floor. My eyes wander back up to the skylight and Marlene just lays herself across the table to look up at it as well. Our conversation winds like a lazy river; initiation, movies, a new bruise, music, instructors, childhoods. I don't have much in common with any of them, we all barely have anything in common with each other. The Dauntless-born are all friends but they couldn't be more different from my friends and I. But we find jokes in the shreds of common ground that we share to laugh and joke until dinner when we split to our separate tables. I slouch while I eat, and talk, and my shirt still smells like coffee; I feel like a mess.

I love it utterly.

I sleep in for the hell of it, my eyes cracking open the first time when the other early risers are just dragging themselves out of bed and a second time when Will jostles my shoulder. I'm startled by how close he is to me, fully bent at the waist to avoid hitting his head on his bunk and one hand braced on the frame.

"Up and at 'em, Mim."

"Don't call me that," I mutter as I roll over and rub my eyes.

"Aw, are you saying I have to be original and come up with my own nickname for you?" He feigns a pout.

"Yes."

He grabs my hands and helps me pull myself into a sitting position, laughing at the mess of dark curls that hang around my face.

"Yes, yes, I'm a mess." I scrape my hair back. "Laugh it up now, but I know what you're like first thing too, you know."

He tugs on my hands. "Stop stalling. It's almost five forty-five. We're going to miss breakfast if you don't get ready soon."

I sigh and drag myself out of bed, crouching to riffle through the laundry basket for something clean before shuffling to the locker room. I'm not the only one struggling to wake up, Christina is practically falling asleep in front of the mirror. I gently bump my shoulder against hers and her head snaps up again.

"Oh! Mimi, you're up."

"Turns out Will is good for something, he's a human alarm clock."

She chuckles and her head dips again, toothbrush still in her mouth as her eyes dip to half-mast. "Can't wait for this to be over." Her mouth is full of toothpaste.

I drag a comb through my hair and try to sort it into something presentable, though in Dauntless I'm learning that presentable counts as anything you can have on with confidence, no accounting for taste required. "Me too. Any ideas what you'll do?"

She spits into the sink. "My brain physically cannot process career and life plans this early in the morning."

I duck into a stall to change; yesterday's black jeans and a wrinkled shirt. When I walk out to glance in the mirror it works better than I would expect it to. Add a little – okay, a lot – of eyeliner and I could see myself walking down the street as an adult member of Dauntless doing…whatever it is that adult Dauntless members do besides jump on trains, get tattoos, and hang around the compound.

"Hey," Myra comes up to me, startling me and making that cool older Dauntless image crumble, "you look good today."

"So do you," I tousle her purposefully sloppily pulled back hair, causing even more lilac fly-aways. "I'm still loving your hair."

"Are we ready to go?" Christina turns to me. There's something different about her face this morning and I realize after a second that she's filled in her eyebrows using the tips I gave her when we were essentially doing the teenage version of dress-up on Saturday. We'd tried to rope the others into it but Tris and Al were especially opposed and Will was lured away with them at the offer that they go for sodas. They're not half as good as Erudite's, unless you're Will of course and then they're the elixir of life.

"Think so. I like your makeup."

"Christina!" Myra exclaims, her voice thick with delight. "I love your look!"

I can see the faintest hint of a blush in her cheeks as she lets out a nervous laugh. "Thanks guys. Gotta give Mimi credit though, if it weren't for her I'd be totally hopeless."

"We should exchange tips sometime," Myra offers, beaming.

"Ooh!" another turns around, I recognize them as Rumi sans makeup and pulled up hair after a moment. "I got this really cool sparkly eyeshadow palette I'd be totally willing to share." She still wears makeup, I don't know how she manages with everything going on.

"We could have a makeup night," says another, Quin

"Only if you tell me your secret to such flawless wings," says a third.

Tris looks supremely out of her element in this conversation as it turns to palettes, techniques, brands, and looks. I decide to have mercy on her and let Christina lead us both out.

"Well that was unexpected," Tris says.

I shrug, remembering encounters like that from my Erudite days when we were all still young and learning. It was like being in kindergarten again, an instant bond over a tiny commonality. I walk to breakfast with a little grin on my face.

"You look pleased about something," Will sidles up next to me in the line. "Did Four slip on a banana peel or something?"

I chuckle. "Now that you say that, I wish. But no, I just…like it here."

His eyes widen. "I think that's the first time you've ever admitted that out loud."

I scoff. "I'm sure that's not true."

"No," Al chimes in, "it is. To be fair though, I don't think any of us ever really talk about liking it here."

"That's because it's awful hard to like being anywhere when you're constantly getting punched in the face," Christina says.

"So you're not exactly holding up your resolution to not get hit in the face anymore?" Will laughs and Christina does too after she gets the joke.

"You're not exactly a beacon of positivity yourself, Will," I quip.

He pulls a face, like he wants to contradict me but can't. "You know what, fine; I like being here and mostly it's because I really like you guys and hope that we're friends forever. Happy, Mimi?"

"Very." My grin widens when I turn to him. "That has to be the nicest thing I've ever heard you say."

Al scoops the entire group into his arms before the conversation can continue, taking every single one of us by surprise. "Aw, we like you too, Will." As the line shuffles forward, Al attempts to move all of us at once which goes predictably and hilariously badly.

We take up our usual table and Myra waves at me from hers. I grin and wave back.

"So are you actually going to do that thing?" Tris asks.

I shrug. "Sure, why not. Chris, that sounds like fun, right?"

"Oh, definitely." We've spent some time together away from the rest of the group working on her makeup skills, practicing techniques, finding colors and color combinations that work for her. "I'd love to try some of what I've learned on someone not myself or Mimi."

"I still don't understand why you're so into all of that," Tris says. "Doesn't it get, like, I don't know…uncomfortable."  
"You get used to it," Will chimes in. "It's a lot of fun once you do." He looks to Christina. "You could test things on me if you want." He grins. "It'd probably be nice to work on someone with a little color in their cheeks."

"Hey!" I exclaim, my mouth half-full of eggs.

"Mimi." Christina gets closer to me. "Mimi." She puts her hands on my cheeks. "I'm sorry, but he's absolutely right." Behind her, Will laughs so hard he snorts, a sound that causes the rest of us to break down into giggles.

"Whatever." I roll my eyes, poorly pretending to be annoyed.

We start to meander toward the training room and I think to myself about how I keep trying to make myself acclimate, to remind myself that I don't really want to go home and I could never really be happy there. I remind myself that this is everything that I'll ever need and all that I could ever ask for. My friends are more than lovely, and I'm free here in a way that I never could be in Erudite. I convince myself that there's nothing for me there, that I've lost nothing by leaving that I wasn't already going to lose.

I haven't decided if I'm succeeding yet, but every day I think I'm getting closer.


	17. Chapter 17: Final Round

Ten days later it hardly feels like any time at all has passed, but we're on our last day of stage one; our final fights. I can't say that I'm not nervous, I mean it is kind of a big deal after all and as much as I hate to admit it, losing to Peter has made me second guess myself a little. I've never been especially confident in my fighting abilities, but even though I got in a few good hits I still went down pretty easily and it was embarrassing. It isn't at all helped by the fact that Peter hasn't let it go and every time I see him he's got a new joke to make about it. At least I have Tris to suffer alongside me, we're stuck in the same boat now but she's been dealing with it for a lot longer.

From the moment I wake up my stomach is in knots. I'm so afraid of losing this fight, of what that might do to my ranking. In these last two weeks it's been weighing pretty heavily on everyone that come Sunday one or more of us might be gone. It might be four of the Dauntless born, and they know this too, or it might be two from each class. Everyone's afraid of washing out, everyone's afraid of their friends washing out, and it's put everyone kind of on edge. They say that you don't really know someone until you see how they are when they're stressed, and if that's true then I can now say that I truly know the other nine initiates that I've been living with over these last five weeks. Even the most confident among us, the ones who are too good to wash out or they're just fucking cocky, have been kind of apprehensive. No one here has nothing to lose, even Peter has his asshat friends that I guess he feels enough genuine affection for to be concerned they might get cut. Which would be heartwarming if I didn't hate them so much.

We're all up around the same time this morning and you can just feel the tension in the air. I try to go about my morning routine despite my nerves, heading into the bathroom with most of the other girls in almost a huddled cluster. Over these past five weeks my friends and I have mostly snubbed Molly, she's never been anything but terrible to us – or in Myra's case, her friends – but we weren't about to start a fight either. Today though, Myra seems to be willing to make an exception. When she's finished with her hair she leans back against the counter and looks at us all, there's something somber in her expression.

"Hey, um, I just want you guys to know that…whatever happens today and, uh, tomorrow, things won't be the same without any one of you. And, um, I'm glad…I'm glad we all got to be here at the same time."

Christina and Tris both shoot wary glances at Molly that she returns, obviously disagreeing with Myra's second statement. The other girls look up from what they were doing too. I don't know them very well and I don't think they know me outside of being that one girl that antagonizes Four.

"Aw thanks, Myra," I say and wrap her in a one armed hug. "I'm glad I got to be here with you too."

"Last chance to take me up on my offer to do your hair, Malachite." She smirks at me.

I pause, it's been a while since someone's called me by my last name. For some reason it sounds foreign to me now.

I push away my unease and say, "Hey now, you don't know you're leaving."

She snickers. "Yeah, but it was fun to watch all the blood drain out of your face when I said that.

"You're a jerk." I don't tell her that the reason it did was because my last name no longer felt like mine and how I don't want to think about what that might imply. I already know that I've come a long way from being Mimette Malachite, the perfect upper class Erudite daughter, but I guess I just hadn't realized how far away I'd gotten from everything I was supposed to be, not really. Of course I've always been aware of how I completely turned away from everything that I was supposed to be in Erudite, but I had never realized how much I associated my family with a certain way of living that I no longer comply with. Even Mark and Minerva in Amity and Candor respectively are elegant and sophisticated, accomplished and with nowhere to go but up.

And me, well Dauntless seems to inherently reject elegance and sophistication to an extent; and as for accomplished and with nowhere to go but up, well I feel like I'm barely keeping my head above water and it feels so easy to fail. My family makes it seem so easy, maybe it is easier where they are, or maybe they're just better. Either way, I can't help but feel like a failure in comparison to them.

Or maybe not a failure, just...like I'm not living up to my full potential.

"It's definitely been a wild ride," says one of the girls I've never talked to before, I think her name is Ashley.

"Can't believe we're only halfway through," says another.

"Thank god, honestly," Rumi says as they tie back their hair. "I think I speak for all of us when I say I can't wait to be done."

A chorus of agreements ripple through the small crowd.

We have fights today but I do my makeup anyways because it feels good. Because today is special. Because I'm going to win my fight no matter who it's against.

I know that we can't all make it, and as I look around the room I try to imagine who it will be. Which one of us won't be here a week from now? I swear to god it won't be me. But most of them don't seem that worried, some of them are even joking about it, placing bets on who will get cut.

"Edward's totally the favorite to be first," says Rumi.

"Yeah, no kidding," Myra replies with that little grin she gets every time he comes up. "I wouldn't be surprised if he took first over all."

"Okay, but who's second?" asks the girl who always wears the black scarf over her hair.

"I would guess Peter," one of the girls says. "I really hate to say it, but he's pretty good."

"You're damn right he's good," Molly chimes in. "He's beaten pretty much everyone in here."

We exchange grimaces. All of us have their least favorite Peter memories, many pertaining to our fights.

"Well then here's hoping he suffers in phase two," Myra says, giving Molly a vicious grin.

Christina's eyes find mine, she's apprehensive about something. I reach over and put my hand over hers. Tris notices this and gives both of us a quizzical look but doesn't say anything. The two of us leave not long after that, done getting ready and uninterested in the continued speculation about the ranks. I know I've got to be in the top five, if not now than by the end of training. There's nothing I need more right now than this, I know that for sure.

Through breakfast the mood is tense, Tris especially seems to be in quite the terrible mood though despite our prying she refuses to tell us what happened to make her so angry.

"Nervous?" I ask Christina teasingly as we walk to training.

"Oh my god I'm terrified."

"Any guesses for who's up against who?"

She shudders. "So long as I'm not up against Molly again I don't think it really matters." She pauses. "Or Peter, wouldn't really want to fight him either."

"At least I know I can win against Molly, but Peter…"

"Four wouldn't put you up against him again after you just lost two weeks ago," Al interjects.

I grimace. "Thanks for reminding me." He shoots me an apologetic look. "Also, I wouldn't put anything past him; he hates me, remember?"

"You do kind of antagonize him," Tris says.

I roll my eyes. "He is in no way above criticism, and maybe I wouldn't fuck with him so much if he would just use my goddamn name."

We arrive in the training room and the board's already been set up, which means that the fights are first thing.  
"You all look bright eyed and bushy tailed," Eric says sarcastically, his eyes skimming over us before rolling.  
"Will and Drew, you're first," Four says, jumping straight into things with no fanfare. Not that I'd really expect anything else.  
"Good luck," I say and Will glances back, smiling at me.  
"I don't need it," he says with an amount of confidence I would find obnoxious on most other people, but I know Will and I know that he's no egotist; not like other people I've met are. He knows he's good, but he also knows his limits.  
"I know."  
"It's what you-"  
"Love about you, I know." I roll my eyes.  
He walks onto the mat with a spring in his step and I join Myra leaning against one of the stone pillars.  
"You two are sweet," she says.  
I look at her and raise my eyebrow. "Excuse me?"  
She snickers at that. "Nothing, Mimi. Never mind."  
Will and Drew sort of dance around each other, trading blows. Will moves with far more grace though and Drew's hits miss more often than not, which infuriates him. I can see him taking the same strategy he did with Al, hitting hard and fast and then dancing out of range. It didn't work when he tried it on me of course, but I'm a lot faster than Al and Drew are.  
"Are you sure you're okay, Tris?" Al puts his hand on her shoulder. "You seem a little..."  
"A little what?" Tris nearly snaps.  
"...On edge."  
"I'm fine," she says stiffly.  
I look back at the board to see the other matchups, I don't get past Peter vs. Edward before Myra claps me hard on the shoulder and I wince as she strikes one of my many bruises.  
"Looks like it's you and me," she says with an amount of anticipation in her voice that makes me kind of nervous. I really like Myra and I know that she likes me too and that she'd never hurt me like Peter did, but I also know that she's not about to go down easy and that she's been practicing after hours with Edward. This won't be an easy fight, but I'd be disappointed if it was.  
"Go easy on me, okay?" Al says to Christina, taking on that puppy expression he always does when it's him against a friend.  
"I make no promises," she replies with a grin.  
Tris got matched against Molly and Christina gently puts her hand on her shoulder, her face suddenly very somber an almost afraid. But Tris herself just looks angry.  
"You're gonna do great," she says, there's a quiver in her voice as she speaks and I know she's been wary of Molly since that first fight even though they were never matched up again, but Tris just continues to pick at her nails.

It's easy to tell that Will has this fight in the bag. Drew may be strong, but that doesn't matter if he can't hit him, and it's becoming increasingly obvious that he can't. His blows are glancing if they even manage to land at all and he becomes steadily angrier as the fight wears on. It's almost funny; I say almost because I can't help but wince when Drew's punch connects solidly with Will's jaw.

"He's fine," Christina mutters.

"I know," I mutter back. "He's got this in the bag. It just...looks like it hurt."

She nods understandingly, her concern written all over her face. I don't think we'll ever get used to seeing our friends get hit, it's hard enough to get used to being hit yourself and at least then you can brush it off; it's a lot harder to watch someone you care about be hurt.

As I predicted, Will wins his fight. Then it's Edward against Peter and before stepping onto the mat, he kisses Myra for luck as he does every time and then grabs my shoulder to pull me close to him.

"I'll kick his ass for you," he mutters.

"I think you're the only one who can," I say flatly. I've long since passed the point of hubris, however much the idea of conceding anything to Peter pains me.

As Edward said he would, he kicked Peter's ass and no one bothered to hide their delight when he went down. We've watched Edward wipe the floor with him before, but really it never gets old; and especially after losing as badly as I did, the sight now holds a new novelty to it.

The fight between Christina and Al is quick and, all things considered, relatively painless. Christina gets in a few good hits, dodging under his slow blows, and he hits her maybe once before passing out. Eric sighs and rubs his temples as Four and Edward help him off the mat.

Christina seems to feel guilty about beating him, she sits down next to him and leans her head on his shoulder in a sort of comforting gesture. He says something that I don't hear and she shrugs in response.

"Blondie, Fun Size," Eric says. Myra and I share a look of annoyance and exasperation as we start toward the mat, deliberately remaining close to each other. Just because they make us fight doesn't mean we aren't still friends.

"Hey." Christina gently grabs my wrist. "Good luck.

"Yeah, you'll do great, Mimi," Will says, appearing next to her.

Al gives me a thumbs up from back against the pillar and Tris smiles at me.

"Tick tock," Four says impatiently.

Myra unsticks herself from Edward and he gives her a little wave.

"I feel like I'm kind of obligated to say that my girlfriend is going to destroy you, but good luck." He grins at me.

I shrug. "Eh, your girlfriend very well might destroy me."

Myra and I drop into our fighting positions and Four signals for us to begin. I let her hit first, I always let everyone hit first. But she seems to know that and neither falters nor seems surprised when her blow glances off. Then she swings again and slams her palm into my ear. I stumble to the side but stay on my feet. I recognize the way she moves in part to be like Edward, obviously he's been a much more beneficial teacher to her than Four. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that he's actually nice to her.

I punch and she blocks me, and then blocks me again, and stumbles but stays on her feet when I try to sweep her feet out from under her; bouncing around on the balls of her feet like a fairy.

We exchange hits for a while, pretty evenly matched. We're both pretty light on our feet and relatively strong, not like Al, Drew, Peter, or Molly are though. But save for Edward and Peter, we are far faster.

But after a while we both begin to tire and I know our fight's becoming too boring for our most esteemed instructors. The sound of Eric tapping his foot impatiently is sharp in my mind. Sharper than it should be given that I need to be focusing a hundred percent on this fight or Myra will gain the upper hand.

I get lucky and manage to trip her up and when she stumbles I don't bother with a punch, I just shove her and she falls, one of her legs catching on the other. She kicks me hard in the knee as soon as I get close to her and the joint doesn't pop but I do fall with a sharp gasp. Myra recovers herself and lunges for me; I catch her arms before she can grab me and try to push her away.

Unfortunately, how to throw a punch isn't all that Edward's been teaching her.

She headbutts me and it sends me reeling back, blood gushing from my nose though I didn't hear it crack so that's good.

She all but jumps on me and I thrash. This is usually how I lose, they get me pinned and things just devolve from me. However, Myra is smaller and lighter than most of the other people I've lost to and like I said, neither of us are especially strong. It's hard for her to hold onto me and I manage to half sit up and punch her, wriggling free despite her own blows. I kick her in the chest just to put some distance between us and when she falls on her back I back away a little more and stand up. She tries to get up as well but I give her an apologetic look and kick her in the stomach. She wheezes in pain and I wince, feeling horrible for her and hating the fact that she's in pain because of me.

Still, I have to win this fight. We both know that we don't want to really hurt each other, not the way that Peter and his friends would hurt us. If our positions were reversed she wouldn't hesitate to do the same to me. But I also know that she'd fret over me for hours afterward and would probably apologize even knowing how things are, knowing that I would understand.

With this in mind, I kick her again and she falls, trembling and curling in on herself. I look back at Eric and Four expectantly, waiting for one of them to call the fight. But they don't and Eric makes a 'get on with it' gesture. I look at Myra, who is hauling herself to her feet. She sways slightly as she stands, looking like a light breeze could knock her over but looks as determined as ever.

Her fist connects with my jaw and as weak as she looks right now it still hurts like hell. I keep trying to end this fast so that I don't have to hit her anymore when she already is in such terrible shape. But she won't go down easily and - despite what people seem to think for reasons I don't think I'll ever understand - she's not weak. But when I manage to sweep her legs out from under her she's too exhausted for her reflexes to be fast enough to catch her. Her head hits the mat and she doesn't get up, her eyes closed. I bite the inside of my lip and kneel down beside her, Edward practically bounding across the room to do the same. He picks her up bridal style and carries her off the mat, following him toward the door.

"Tris and Molly!" Four calls and I stop.

Edward glances back at me. "I've got it, you can stay."

"I'm sorry."

He rolls his eyes. "You're fine. She would have done the same to you."

I nod. "I know. I just…"

"Feel bad?" He raises his eyebrow.

"She's my friend." I leave him and walk back to where Christina, Will, and a dazed Al sit and watch as the fight begins.

Christina sits crosslegged on the ground, watching the fight very, very carefully; her eyes narrowed and her posture tense.

"She's going to be fine," I say, sitting down next to her.

"I know," she says, not relaxing in the slightest. "I just...after what happened with Peter. I don't want her to get hurt."

"She's been doing pretty solidly," Will says. "I mean, in comparison to when we started out."

"Was that a birthmark that I saw on your left buttcheek?" Molly says loudly. Even Al, who had his head on his knees a moment before looks up in shock and confusion. "God you're freckly, Stiff."

Molly comes toward Tris and throws a punch that she dodges, punching her in the stomach at the same time before quickly moving away again. She practically snarls and charges at Tris, but she moves out of the way and blocks her next punch with her arm; though given Molly's considerable strength, I'll bet it hurt anyways. Molly groans in frustration and brings her leg up to kick Tris in the side but she moves away easily again and slams her elbow up into her chin while she's off balance. In retaliation, she punches Tris in the ribs and Tris stumbles away, gasping for breath. She backs away a few steps, watching Molly and analyzing her carefully. Then in practically the blink of an eye she darts forward and uppercuts Molly in the stomach, who nearly doubles over with a wheeze. Tris takes advantage of her state and sweeps her legs out from beneath her, sending her crashing to the mat; then she draws her leg back and kicks her in the ribs.

Tris keeps kicking her in the head and torso and Molly curls in on herself, drawing her arms up to protect her head. I watch this with rapt attention and growing horror; it's not that I didn't think that she was capable of doing this, it's just that I didn't think she would. The others are as shocked as I am, and not one of us really knows what to say.

She doesn't stop until Four basically pulls her away, muttering something to her. Molly rolls over on her side and groans, letting her arms fall. Her face is bleeding profusely and something in me wants to help her, just because it would be the nice thing to do.

"Is it weird to say that she had that coming?" Christina says.

None of us answer and I stay right where I am.

"I think you should leave," Four says to Tris. "Take a walk."

She dusts herself off. "I'm fine. I'm fine now."

She walks back to us and we all just stare.

"What?" she says with an almost unsettlingly casual tone.

"Congratulations?" Christina says.

She nods. "Thanks." There's no more tension in her shoulders. In fact, she's almost smiling.

I know Tris; she's my friend and over these last five weeks we've gotten so close. I don't know what happened this morning, but it seemed to have flipped some sort of switch in her.

Or maybe it's just those Dauntless instincts kicking in. I glance at Eric and shudder, then brush the thought away. Eric is pointlessly cruel and over the top, he does terrible things to people just for the hell of it and that's not Tris.

I look back at Molly, trying to imagine what she could have done to Tris that would provoke her to do something like that; to make her deserve it. That thought doesn't really sit well with me for some reason, but I try not to think too deeply about that.


	18. Chapter 18: Thicker Than Water

In the excitement of yesterday, I had all but forgotten about Visiting Day; which I've been anticipating and dreading ever since I transferred. My family will be there, that much I know, the real question is what they'll say when they arrive. Like I've said before, I've always known that my parents don't exactly admire the Dauntless like I do. Of course I don't expect them to be exactly happy with me, I mean I did ditch them and also lie about it the night before and the day of. Granted, I didn't know I would be here either; imagining it in retrospect I guess I had just assumed Erudite would be where I would remain, but I didn't.

We all get ready in silence, and this is arguably more tense than yesterday. At least we're all accustomed to fighting to varying degrees, it's something that we all know how to deal with. Our families are another matter entirely. I assume that some doubt their parents will come at all, Tris wears this fear on her face as she gets ready. This should be easy for me, I know how this is going to go; I'm going to walk out of this room to the Pit and find my family, we'll talk, and then they'll leave. I've been through Visiting Days before with Mark and Minerva, I guess the trouble is just that I've never experienced a _Dauntless _Visiting Day.

Two weeks ago, I bought myself a dress specifically for this occasion, and luckily I picked one with long sleeves. I picked it in hopes that it would be something my very fashionable family would like, and we all always got new clothes for special occasions anyways.

Petty things like that mean everything now.

I use up much of my concealer and foundation covering the bruises that my clothes don't; and I try to ignore the pain that comes from doing my makeup but I can't help but grimace. By Erudite standards - between my hair which has obviously not been well kept as in the past five weeks, my bruised and calloused skin, and sloppy makeup - I look terrible. By Dauntless standards, I actually look alright. I just don't know what I should be adhering to today; both? Neither? Somewhere in between? Does it even matter?

Well of course it matters, I want to look nice. I pull my hair back into a style more elaborate than the one I've been pulling it back into for training, and stare at my reflection as if I can will myself to look better.

Deciding that there's nothing more I can do, I go back into the dorm. Will is sitting up on his bed, running his fingers through his gelled hair and I beckon him down to sit next to me.

"How do I look?" he asks.

I'm tempted to make a snarky comment, but instead I smile at him and say, "You look great."

"So do you."

"Hah, wait till you see my family. I won't look half as good as they do."

"You don't even look as good as you did on the first day." He laughs.

I roll my eyes. "Gee, thanks."

"Relax." He props his arm up on my shoulder. "You're great, especially considering you've spent the last five weeks getting the shit kicked out of you."

Tris, Christina, and Al join us a minute later and when I glance at Tris I laugh. Her shirt is nothing by most standards, even rather modest from a Dauntless' perspective based on what I've seen, but it's not something that she'd ever be allowed to wear in Abnegation.

I gasp dramatically. "Tris, is that your neck?"

"Your collarbones!" Will joins in.

"And those pants-" Christina can't even finish her sentence before collapsing into a fit of giggles.

Tris flushes and then scowls. "Shut up."

That only spurs us to laugh harder and even Al buries his face in his hands to muffle his laughter.

The door opens and the room quiets immediately. Eric walks in.

"Attention!" he shouts unnecessarily. "I want to give you some advice about today. If by some miracle your families do come to visit you..." He scans our faces and smirks "...which I doubt, it is best not to seem too attached. That will make it easier for you, and easier for them. We also take the phrase 'faction before blood' very seriously here. Attachment to your family suggests you aren't entirely pleased with your faction, which would be shameful. Understand?"

I resist the urge to roll my eyes and nod instead. I vaguely understand what he's getting at, but I've always believed that 'faction before blood' was bullshit and I'm not about to change because of his empty threat.

"You look nice, Mimi," Myra says on her way out of the dormitory. Her bow is back, but it's black now and keeps her newly lilac hair tied in a messy bun. Like me, she's tried to imitate the Erudite style while still keeping within Dauntless norms.

"Aw, thanks. So do you."

"I still think you should let me do your hair." She reaches behind me and runs her fingers over my braid. "Not purple because that's my color, but I think blue would look nice."

I roll my eyes. "Oh that's real subtle and definitely won't get me chewed out by Eric."

She snorts. "Fuck Eric. And it's not like you're doing yourself any favors being subtle. Even Tris is showing off her tattoo."

I give her a deadpan look. "Hey, I like my style thank you very much."

"So do I; it suits you. I'm just saying that you could stand to make it a little more...Dauntless."

I smile and shake my head. "Look, I'll think about it; okay?"

She returns it. "Okay."

I fall back to walk with Christina and Will, Will mid joke and Christina groans but laughs anyways,

"God," Christina groans. "That was _bad _."

"I pride myself on it," Will says smugly.

"Of course you do." Christina rolls her eyes. She glances around me and then frowns. "Hey, where are Al and Tris?"

"Um...I don't know." Both of them seem to have dematerialized, quite a feat given that we're all walking down the same hallway and there's only ten people.

However, my attention is immediately pulled away when we arrive in the Pit, the main floor of which has been closed off today. I would expect it to be mostly empty given the small amount of transfers, but it's actually rather crowded. Older Dauntless visit with other faction members, presumably friends and family that they left behind; all of them smiling and looking generally happy to see each other.

Faction before blood my ass.

"Wow," Christina half-whispers.

"I know, right?" Will mutters back.

I spot my family among the crowd, not that that's really hard; they kind of tend to draw attention. My four siblings, my parents, and Maureen walk slowly through the crowd.

"I'll see you guys later," I say and then start walking down one of the sets of stairs, my heart pounding in my chest. Happy as I am, I'm surprised and a little hurt that Jeanine, Gwendolyn, and Victoria are all missing.

Melanie sees me first and she grins, walking toward me with the others right behind her.

"Mimette!" she exclaims and hugs me tightly.

"Hey, Mel." I lean away after a second but hold onto her arms. "Where are Gwen and Vic?"

She pulls a face. "Er...Don't take offence when I say this, but they...didn't want to come." Something in my face must change because she gives me an apologetic look. "It's not your fault it's just that...uh…"

"No." I nod. "No, I get it."

I know Gwendolyn and Victoria have problems with Dauntless, both being associated with it and being here physically. For Gwendolyn she feels that it undermines something about her respectability, and for some Erudite I'm very well aware that it might. As for Victoria, well her parents died here. I don't know the details of the event but I know that it was awful and it's just better for her to be kept as far away as possible.

That doesn't mean I'm not secretly a little hurt.

I let go and look around her at the rest of my family. "Hi, guys."

We must look sort of ridiculous to other people; most families tend to stick in one faction with maybe one or two anomalies, my family in particular has a long history in Erudite. But everyone knows that Maureen is a transfer, she got her first gold at fourteen as a Candor and she simply never stopped competing. Erudite's won every inter-faction championship since she transferred.

My parents and siblings are names and faces that everybody needs to know, just not all in same faction. Most of the transfers in my class are from Candor, and of the families that came I can see then casting glances at Minerva; Peter's father - a large and burly man with a loud voice - outright stares as he speaks to his son.

My mother moves to Melanie's side and runs her hand over my cheek, right over one of my many, many bruises, which I have to fight the urge to flinch away from. She blinks quickly and starts to open her mouth like there's something she wants to say. Then she pulls me into a tight hug. "Hello, my dear."

"Hi, Mom." It takes everything I have not to start crying on the spot.

She kisses the top of my head. "I love you so. We've–" she stops short but it doesn't matter because I know what she was going to say. My family misses me.

"I love you too." I press my face into her shoulder so the others can't see how choked up I'm getting.  
"Now, don't cry," she mutters loud enough for only me to hear. "This is a happy occasion." She puts her hand on the back of my head, smoothing down my hair and then kisses me again.

I nod and we let go, but the child in me wants to fling myself back into her arms immediately.

"Jeanine sends her love, by the way. She wishes she could be here but something came up and one of us had to take care of it. I'm sure you understand by now."

I nod.

She smiles. "Of course you do. How are you?"

"I'm fine." I wish I could tell them everything that's happened since I left, but I don't want to worry them.  
Michael and Minerva both give me a disbelieving look.

"'_ Fine' _," Minerva quotes back at me with a laugh. "Really is that all? I would have figured Dauntless would be more exciting than that."

"Uh…I, uh...it is?"

They laugh.

Her voice softens as much as it can. "It's really good to see you, Mim." I have to stand on my toes to wrap my arms around her neck, and that's even as she bends. Her arms wrap around my waist and then my feet leave the ground entirely. I gasp and laugh as she spins me around, laughing as well.

Mark makes a noise that sounds more like a squawk than anything else. "Oh my god, put her down!" His hand is over his mouth like he's shocked, but I can tell he's trying to muffle his own laughter. "Minerva!"

She sets me back on my own two feet and I stumble away, still laughing. Mark braces me with his huge hands on my shoulders and then pulls me into a crushing hug of his own.

"I've missed you," he says.

"Missed you too." My voice is muffled by his chest.

"So why don't you tell us about how exciting it's been," my father says as he pulls me into a hug of his own. "Your mother says you have a few friends."

"Uh, yeah." I glance around the Pit, finding Tris, Christina, and Will all together. "They're over there. And then...well Myra, Edward, and Al are around here somewhere I'm sure."

"Well are you going to introduce us?" Mark says.

"I mean yeah I guess."

I hug Michael and Maureen at the same time; Michael clapping me on the shoulder as I lean back and Maureen leaning forward to kiss me on the forehead.

"Oh," Maureen says out of the blue. "I almost forgot you hadn't heard yet."

"Heard what?"

She and Michael exchange grins and Michael says, "Do you want to tell her or should I?"

"Oh I absolutely do." She turns back to me, beaming and twisting a lock of fire colored hair through her fingers. "I'm pregnant."

I return her smile. "Oh Maureen, that's wonderful."

"Yeah," Michael says just as enthusiastically. "We're really, really, really, really…" He chuckles, "really happy."

"I had my first dress fitting," Melanie says. "And Gwen's is in a week."

"She looks beautiful," my mother says, Michael and Maureen nod along.

I smile through my pangs of sadness; they're talking about things that I won't really get to see. Of course I'll meet Michael and Maureen's child eventually but I won't really be there like I would be if I stayed, I won't get to go to Melanie's wedding even if there was a chance they'd want me there at all, I won't get to see Victoria grow up and become her own person and then choose for herself. I'll always be a part of the family, but I'll be more like Mark and Minerva - distant satellites that they hardly ever see. And I'll be Dauntless, which sets me a world apart really; Amity and Candor are different, they're close collaborators with Erudite and considered to be more 'respectable' if one absolutely _must _transfer. In contrast, Dauntless is...frowned upon at best; not as bad as being Abnegation, but still mildly embarrassing for the transfers' families.

That's why I have to do well here, failure is absolutely not an option because I've already kind of embarrassed my family by leaving; the least I can do is make something of myself.

"How are the others?" I ask. "Jeanine, Gwen, and Vic?"

"Jeanine and I are busy as ever," my mother says. "Between initiation and the fiasco with the council…" she trails off, grimacing. My father shifts the arm that was linked in hers to put his hand on her shoulder.

"What fiasco?" I ask.

She makes a dismissive gesture. "Nothing you need to concern yourself with."

"Oh, well how's initiation stuff going?"

"Wouldn't know," Melanie says. "Things are so busy that Michael, Gwendolyn, and I couldn't teach out initiation classes this year. We had to bring in the alternates."

As a public service, all of the department heads are required to pass on what they know to others, that's how the manifesto puts it I think. Basically, they have to teach other people their subject of specialty. Most of them teach a class during initiation because that's easy to coordinate and requires not much effort on their part in general, the initiates will take whatever knowledge they can get from them whether they're actually good teachers or not. The ones that don't - because their schedule doesn't permit it, or because their subject isn't really meant to be covered at all during initiation and they don't have a related field, or simply because they simply don't feel like dealing with a bunch of teenagers for ten weeks out of their year - do professional developments or seminars at the college.

No one who works for or with the council is held to this standard of course, even if they had a subject to teach most of them wouldn't be able to find the time anyways. But as I've said before, everyone's busy; but I can't fathom what might be so time consuming that it pulls the heads of the psychology, engineering, and chemistry away from one of their biggest annual duties.

"What's going on?" I ask.

"Nothing you need to concern yourself with," Melanie mimics what our mother said.

"Nothing personal," Michael says. "We just can't really talk about it."

Minerva gives them an odd look, as a Candor I suppose she's not used to people withholding information. Though we try to pretend, Mark and Minerva have been gone a while and their definition of normal just isn't the same anymore. They aren't the same anymore.

"So, let's meet these friends of yours; shall we?" Mark says.

"Um, yeah of course." I lead them across the Pit to the small cluster.

"Back off, Tris," I hear Will say. "You're not punching my sister."

"Oh?" Tris raises her eyebrows and crosses her arms. "You think so."

"Hey guys," I interrupt and Will looks relieved, then he and the woman next to him – obviously his sister – both pull a face when they look at my family. So does everyone else for that matter.

"John, Carolina," Tris' mother says.

"Natalie," my mother says coldly.

"You two know each other?" I ask.

"In passing." My mother's voice is positively frozen and my father looks no happier.

Tris and I share a look, we both knew that this was coming; her father and my mother don't exactly get along.

"It's so nice that you two girls are close," my father says to me with no emotion.

"Yes," my mother says. "Wonderful."

I laugh nervously and after a second Tris joins in, some of the tension falling off her shoulders. Christina and Will glance at each other and join us. Will' older sister gives her brother a Look, the same one that Michael give me. Melanie puts her hands on my shoulders and my laughter tapers off.

"So these are your friends?"

"Well some of them; like I said, I'm sure that Edward, Al, and Myra are around here somewhere I'm just not sure where."

She hums in acknowledgement; she's not looking at me anymore, instead she's staring at Will's sister, who is not so subtly glaring back.

"Great," she says flatly. "Really, I'm so glad that you've gotten close to people. That's really, really…" she glances back at Will's sister, "great."

Michael snickers and mutters to her, "That's karma is what it is." She gives him a withering glare that he shrugs off.

"Dr. Malachite and I took a few classes together, Will," his sister explains.

"You're gonna have to be a little more specific than that, you changed majors like eight times," Will says and the twins snicker, much to his sister's very obvious annoyance.

She rolls her eyes. "When I studied psychology."

Will glances at Melanie tentatively. "Uh, yeah. That makes sense."

Melanie is still drumming her long fake nails on my shoulder and I don't have to look back to know that she's not enjoying this conversation.

"Oh for the love of god." Michael rolls his eyes and gives Will and I an exasperated look. "They didn't get along and they still don't get along. They also–" One of her hands leaves my shoulders as she drives her elbow back into Michael's chest. He wheezes but he's laughing so hard he has to steady himself on Maureen, who is also dying of laughter. Mark makes a disapproving noise under his breath and Minerva laughs.

Will laughs and raises his eyebrows at his sister and then looks back at me, still kind of snickering under his breath. "Oh by the way, Mimi, this is my sister, Cara."

"It's lovely to meet you," I say.

"And the same to you, Mimi.

"Mimi?" My mother looks at me, her eyebrows raised.

"Uh, yeah. I, um, I changed it. Mimette just...didn't really fit anymore."

"I suppose it wouldn't," my father says. "Mimette is a very Erudite name and Dauntless is...different."

Christina grins and turns to Will. "Please tell me 'Will' is short for 'William."

"Ah, no. Sorry to disappoint." He can barely get through his sentence without laughing.

"Hi." The older woman behind Christina - presumably her mother - says. "I'm Stephanie, Christina's mother. This is my husband, Julian, and our younger daughter, Rose."

"Hi," Rose chirps, giving a little wave.

"Pleasure," my mother says. "Carolina Malachite."

"I know," Stephanie says.

I rock back on my heels sort of awkwardly for a second. "And, uh, my siblings; Mark, Minerva, Melanie, and Michael."

"Wow," Christina says, drawing out the 'o'.

I shrug, knowing what she's referring to. "Yeah, it's kind of a thing."

"Christina hadn't mentioned that she'd befriended a faction leader's daughter," Julian says.

"Two," Stephanie corrects him with a nod at Tris.

Christina shrugs and then her eyes fix on Maureen, a nervous smile spreading across her face. "I mean apparently Mimi forgot to mention that she's related to god's gift to figure skating." She turns to me. "How did that just never come up?"

I shrug.

Maureen chuckles. "It's so flattering to meet someone in another faction who follows my work."

"I mean you've never lost a competition. They say that you're one of the greatest ever, and I'm just such a fan of figure skating." She laughs nervously and then gives Minerva a nervous glance. Minerva smiles at her and she looks away.

"Well," Natalie says, "I should be going. Stephanie, Julian, was so lovely to meet you." She turns to her daughter. "Beatrice, would you be so kind as to walk me to the door?"

Tris nods, seeming eager to get out of the conversation for some reason.

"We'll see you at the Fall Gala, Mrs. Prior," my father says and there's something off in his tone, though I can't quite tell what it is.

Natalie gives him a very obviously fake smile. "I look forward to it, Dr. Captor."

"Give Representative Prior our best," my mother says, flashing a saccharine smile to match my father's.

Something in Natalie's expression falters for a minute before she recovers her composure and says, "I'll be sure to." She turns on her heel and walks away.

Mark and Minerva give our parents wary looks that I don't understand. Council drama I assume, and Minerva as a Candor likely takes offence to our parents' obviously forced kindness - if you can even call it that.

"Wow," I say to Will. "That was…a lot. What did we walk up on?"

Will frowns. "Cara was kind of being an asshole but Tris, uh, well...she just kind of snapped at her.

Cara rolls her eyes at the description of events. "I was not. I was simply pointing out that-"

"You were being rude and you shouldn't have said that."

"Not terribly out of the ordinary," I hear Melanie mutter.

Michael laughs. "Oh my god."

"What was that, Malachite?" Cara snaps, something poisonous in her tone. She doesn't seem to care that Melanie's a department head, that she's staring down a portion of her faction's leadership.

"Oh, here we go." Michael rolls his eyes, he and Maureen share an exasperated look.

Will gives me an apologetic look that I return.

"Let's not kid ourselves, Erble, you don't exactly have a track record of knowing when to hold your tongue."

"Melanie," I hiss, an embarrassed flush coming over my cheeks.

Michael and Maureen are laughing so hard that have to hold onto each other to keep from doubling over, Will looks just as embarrassed as I am.

"Mimette's right," Mark says. "This is neither the time nor the place."

Melanie glares at him but not me and Cara rolls her eyes.

"There's food in the dining hall," Christina blurts out. "Lunch and whatever."

"Food makes everything better," Will says with a stilted awkwardness that Christina and I can't help but laugh at.

"He's not wrong," Minerva agrees.

Our three families follow our lead to the dining hall, all together there are more of us than there are the rest of the initiates families. It seems that Molly, Al, and Drew's parents didn't even show up.

As we walk up the stairs, I spot Edward and Myra arm in arm talking to three adults in blue; a short man with light brown hair, and two women holding hands; one of them is tall like Edward and the other has the same wavy hair as him.

Myra catches sight of me and waves, I smile and wave back.

"Another friend of yours?" Mark says.

I nod. "Yeah, both of them. Edward and Myra; Edward's, like, the best in our class and Myra's really super sweet."

"I like her hair," Minerva says.

"She's been offering to do mine for like two weeks now."

"Yeah," Will cuts in. "But apparently red's 'too gaudy'."

Mark looks down at his red button up with exaggerated offence. "Well now I know why you didn't join me in Amity."

Michael, Melanie, Maureen, my parents, and my friends laugh but his words chill me to the bone. I could have, I almost did, I really thought about it. I try not to think about it anymore because then I'll only get stuck on what might have been.

I notice that Minerva's not laughing either, that she seems to be physically swallowing some sort of statement.

Maureen twists a piece of her straightened red to blonde ombre hair around her finger. "Jeez, Mim, you could have said something, you know."

That gets a laugh out of me. "No, that wasn't what I meant at all, you two. You look fine; I meant on me."

"So I take it you haven't changed much since you left?" Minerva says. "Aside from your wardrobe obviously, which looks fantastic by the way."

"I mean, things are different now if that's what you mean. I mean my friends and all." I grin at them.

"Aw look who's finally willing to admit that she actually likes us," Will drawls. "Ice Queen's growing a heart. I know you could."

I turn back to Minerva. "Except for Will, he's actually the worst."

"You hurt me, Mimi."

"Aw, poor baby," Christina and I say in unison with the exact same expression of mock sympathy.

He turns to Cara. "This has been the last five weeks of my life. Like, I've somehow managed to make the meanest friends in the world."

"Why do you three hang out if you hate each other so much?" Rose says.

"Actually, I adore Mimi," Christina says.

"Aw, and I you, Chris," I say.

"Will, however, is kind of a dick."

Rose giggles and nearly doubles over laughing when Will presses a hand to his chest and gasps dramatically.

"Oh yeah, 'cause it's totally just me."

"It is you," I say. "I thought you were supposed to be self-aware."

He rolls his eyes. "Bite me, Mimi."

"We also have Tris and Al," Christina says to Rose. "Al is, like, the teddy bear of the group; and Tris is the awesome, kind-hearted glue that holds us all together."

"She didn't seem very kind to me," Rose says.

"Well, my sister does tend to bring out the worst in people," Will says.

Cara shrugs. "What can I say, it's a gift."

Melanie inhales like she's going to say something, but Mark nudges her with his arm and she shuts her mouth again.

We arrive in the packed dining hall where the smell of food hits us from the moment we open the doors. Inside, most of the people milling around are Dauntless members but I notice that Peter has come up here with his parents too.

"At some point, I'd like to meet your instructor," my mother says.

I fight the urge to grimace, she's not going to like Four and I really don't want her to worry. I also would rather not have him telling her all that's gone on over the past five weeks, she already doesn't approve of Dauntless and really what she's seen is only scratching the surface.

After we get our food and are walking to the table, an excited voice calls out Maureen's name. She turns and I look back over my shoulder to see a woman in a sparkling black crop-top, shorts, and thigh high socks despite the fact that it's October coming toward us. Her aqua blue hair is tied into a messy bun and she has a partially completed sleeve of tattoos on her left arm.

Maureen beams and drops Michael's hand to approach her.

The Dauntless woman pulls her into a hug and says, "It's been too long."

"Entirely," Maureen says. "How have you been?"

"Oh you know, not so bad; initiation's always the best time of the year here in Dauntless. How's Giselle?"

"She's great. Seeing someone, I think she works in the…physics department, I wanna say. I'm not really sure, I've had one three second conversation with her and that was a month ago. But yeah, she's looking forward to the Showcase as always."

Giselle Reichenbach is the captain of Erudite's gymnastics team, which is pretty major in my – their faction. Figure skating is more Candor's sport, though people in other factions are allowed to compete. There's a fair amount of bitterness that Erudite's won every women's solo championship in the past five years, which is when Maureen transferred. The Erudite team was a joke before her and now not only are they a threat but they're constantly the ones to beat.

"Wonderful. And how are you? Practicing hard for the start of the season I assume."

"Actually I'm not competing this year." She flashes a wicked grin. "Candor might actually have a shot at winning their title back."

The woman suddenly looks concerned. "Did something happen, why aren't you competing?"

"Well I guess you could put it that way…"

She grabs Maureen's arm. "Come on, the suspense is killing me."

"I'm pregnant."

The woman squeals and hugs her again. "Congratulations! When did you find out?"

"I had the procedure done a little under three weeks ago."

"I'm so happy for you." She leans back but keeps her hands on Maureen's shoulders. "So what brings you to Dauntless?"

"My little sister-in-law." Maureen points her thumb in my direction.

The woman looks at our group for the first time, though Will and Christina along with their families went to go find a table and sit down some time ago.

"Hi ya," she says. She lets go of Maureen and walks over to me, nodding at Michael as she does.

"Um, hi." I glance back at Maureen. "I don't believe we've met."

She smiles. "I'm Amelie Lacamoire, Dauntless' prima ballerina. Mau and I are fans of each other's work."

"Um, nice to meet you. I'm Mimi."

"Mmm, nice." She looks back at Maureen. "I'll leave y'all to your family time. See you at the Faction Gala, and tell Gisa I send my love."

"I will. Bye."

"I didn't know you had Dauntless friends," I say to Maureen as we cross the dining hall to rejoin Will and Christina.

"I have _a _Dauntless friend. But really, Amelie's great; it's practically impossible not to like her."

Generally, my whole family doesn't seem to be especially keen on the Dauntless. Even Michael appears to just barely tolerate Amelie, if he doesn't just avoid her entirely. I'd imagine that it's different for Maureen, being a transfer and all, though she came from Candor.

"She seemed nice," I say.

"Don't you remember going to the Showcases, Mimette?" my father says. "Dance is the once good thing ever to come out of Dauntless."

"Gwendolyn and Victoria," Melanie corrects him.

"Ah, right, of course."

I nod. "I remember."

Twice a year the performing arts center holds a massive showcase that every faction but Abnegation participates in – well actually the Abnegation work behind the scenes. It's a huge event and one that my family always attends and more importantly, always attends together. It's one of the things that keeps us close. I've seen the Dauntless dancers more than a few times, but I think I would have remembered a ballerina with bright blue hair.

"Ams changes her hair every like six months and often wears wigs in her performances," Maureen says, "but I can't believe you've never met her before. We talk all the time; how do you think we always get such great seats to the Dauntless performances?"

I shrug. "Honestly I thought that was Mom."

"You should consider talking to her, she's a great teacher and I'm sure she'd just love to teach you."

I shrug again. Dance has never really been my thing, though Amelie does seem sweet.

We sit down at the table Will and Christina got, one of the long bench ones to fit all of us and start eating.

"What was that about?" Christina asks.

"Apparently my sister-in-law has Dauntless friends I didn't know about."

"I have one Dauntless friend," she reminds me.

"Yeah, that's one more than I figured you'd have."

She rolls her eyes. "We're just fans of each other's work."

"So," Minerva puts her elbows on the table and leans forward to look at me around our parents, who are sitting between us. "tell me everything."

"Oh yes," Melanie says. "I'm sure we're all just dying to know what exactly goes on during Dauntless' initiation."

Will, Christina, and I exchange nervous glances. There's absolutely nothing we could tell them that wouldn't make them worry, let alone everything.

"I'm also really curious to know if this fifth friend of yours actually exists," Michael says. "What's his name, Hal?"

"Al," I correct him. "And yes, he exists, he just has a terrible habit of disappearing."

"And where's Tris?" Christina adds. "I doubt it takes this long to walk someone to the door."

Will laughs humorlessly and awkwardly. "Yeah, I can't imagine why she wouldn't want to come back."

"Oh come off it," Cara says.

"Would it kill you to not actually be the worst for once." He looks back at us. "I'm so sorry."

I chuckle. "Will, I have four siblings; I know."

"Sis," Melanie says, a joking warning in her tone.

"Don't pick fights you can't win," Mark says too lightly for the – albeit joking – threat in his words.

"Good to know you're as much of a jerk to your siblings as you are to me." Will laughs.

I smirk. "I mean the difference is that I actually like my siblings."

He scoffs. "You love me, I've heard you say it before."

I bark out a laugh. "That's debatable."

"Terrible." He shakes his head a little bit and then leans it on Christina's shoulder. "Help me, Chris."

"Oh you are so on your own on this one." She pats his cheek and then pushes his head off her shoulder.

"No but jokes aside," I turn back to Michael. "I actually do really like my friends, they're amazing."

"Oh I can tell." Michael and Maureen share a smile that I don't understand.

"So you three – or five, whatever – have each other," Stephanie says. "That's great. You know, all of Christina's friends stayed in Candor and I was so worried she'd be lonely."

"Mom, I'm fine." Christina suddenly seems very uncomfortable with the turn the conversation has taken.

Will and I both nod understandingly.

"Yeah I mean pretty much all my friends stayed in Erudite," Will says. "'Xcept for Edward of course, but like _of course _he of all people would be here."

Cara raises her eyebrows. "Edward's here?"

"Yes." He groans. "And no, we're not going to talk to him."

"I had a friend who transferred to Amity," I say.

"I've seen her," Mark says. "Cassandra, right?"

"Casey."

"She's doing well, she seems very…happy."

I smile. "That's good. I'm glad."

"D'you miss her?" He seems genuinely curious, resting his head on his hand and staring at me with wide eyes.

Mark knew Casey, knew her in the same way my siblings and I all knew each other's friends back when we were all together. Still, after all these years I'm surprised that he remembers and cares enough about her to pay attention to her progress in initiation.

A wave of nerves washes over me. I have to answer this question very carefully so that I don't come off wrong on with end. I settle for a shrug. "We both made our choices. It was…an eventuality we were prepared for."

He gives me a curious look, but lets the subject drop.

"So, training," Stephanie says. "I can tell by the sheer amount of makeup caked on your face, Christina, that _something _happened."

Ah yes, there's that Candor bluntness I've grown to despise the more I've had to interact with it over the years. Christina seems just as offended, frowning and touching her fingertips to her cheek.

"I'm fine," she says with no small amount of bite.

"If you were fine you wouldn't be so reluctant to tell us what you're actually doing." Minerva nods along with her and I groan internally. I love my sister but I can already tell that she's not just going to let this go.

"It's nothing," Christina says. "Just some physical training."

"You don't have to worry," I add because I can already see the beginnings of my father's grimace.

"And what, pray tell, does this 'physical training' entail?" Cara raises her eyebrows.

"Uh…" Will glances away with an exaggerated uncomfortable expression. "…sparring." He says the word very slowly and Cara's expression bottoms out, so do Christina's family's, and mine with the striking exception of Minerva.

"And how's that going for you, Mimette?" she asks, not phased in the slightest.

Suddenly all I can think of is all the fights I've lost; getting knocked out by Edward on the first day, Peter wearing me down in minutes, all the times over the past five weeks that I've come to sprawled out on the mat – or in worse cases, in the infirmary.

"It's going fine," I say tersely, knowing Minerva and everyone else can see right through me but lying anyways.

My mother gives me an odd look but says nothing.

"Yeah," Christina says uncomfortably. "We're all, uh, doing pretty well."

"That's good," my father says hollowly, almost dismissively.

"Have you had to fight each other?" Michael asks.

"Yeah," Will answers for all three of us. "But it's like whatever. It's just a part of being Dauntless."

"And yet you still want to be here," Stephanie says with near disbelief.

Christina, Will, and I exchange uncomfortable looks for what feels like the hundredth time today.

"We chose this place for a reason," Christina says.

"There's nowhere else we'd rather be," Will adds.

"Hey, you don't have to justify yourselves to us." Mark gives us a reassuring smile. Michael gives him an odd look but says nothing and then shares the look with Melanie, eyebrows raised like they're exchanging silent commentary with each other. When we were younger, they used to pretend like they were able to communicate telepathically.

"Really," Will insists, the silence clearly making him nervous. "It's…it's fine."

"If you say so," Cara quips.

"So," my father says, "_ that _aside, how is the rest of Dauntless treating you?"

The people I like I really like, the ones I don't seem hellbent on making mine and my friends' lives miserable for some unknown reason. But I don't need to stress him or the rest of my family out any more than I already have. "It's fine. We sleep in dorms so that's…new."

"Two to a room?" Michael asks.

"More like eighty. It's all of the transfers in one place and all of the Dauntless born in another so…yeah."

"Ew," Cara says.

"Indeed," Melanie agrees, which Cara seems caught off-guard by.

"It's not so bad," Will says. "Mimi and I bunk together and Christina's not far away so at least we can, like, talk and stuff."

"The dorms are co-ed?" Julian pulls a face.

"Yeah, Dad, that's what 'all the transfers in one place' means," Christina says.

Julian furrows his brow. "That's…interesting. Do you share a bunk with anyone?"

"Yeah, Tris. We're like right across from Will and Mimi and then Al's one over. It makes it easier to talk and stuff."

"And stuff," Maureen repeats.

Cara raises her eyebrows, Mark gives me a look, Michael starts coughing to hide his obvious laughter, and Rose starts to make kissy noises before Christina glares her into silence.

"Not like that!" she exclaims, a furious blush in her cheeks and her shoulders close to her ears. Rose cackles in response, her laughter spreading to the rest of us. Will buries his face in his hands and I swat Melanie away when she elbows me with her lips curled into a smirk.

A frustrated and flustered noise escapes my throat reminiscent of Mark's squawk from earlier. "Maureen! Why would you say that?!"

"Because it's fun to watch you freak out," Michael replies on his wife's behalf.

Will looks up, smiling. "Isn't it?"

Michael holds out his fist and after a moment of hesitation, Will bumps it with his own. Then what he just did seems to dawn on him as Cara gives them both a strange look.

"Michael," my mother says, her chiding tone undercut by her smile, "don't antagonize your sister."

He just laughs in response.

Christina is shaking her head, still looking like she wants to melt into the floor as she mutters, "Why?"

"Relax," Mark says with a too big grin on his face, too dignified to laugh obviously. He reaches around my siblings and my parents to put his hand on my shoulder.

"You relax." Minerva pokes him in his exposed ribs. He gasps and loses his balance for just a moment before recovering himself.

The interaction garners surprised and quizzical looks from Christina's parents. Candor and Amity have pretty much never gotten along, Mark and Minerva are supposed to be the perfect examples of their respective factions but it can be hard to reconcile that with how close they've always been. Neither of them seem to be paying much attention to their stares anyways, too content to joke with each other like they're kids again.

"We should be going," my mother says after a few more minutes, getting to her feet and then taking my father's hand again as he stands too. "We've been just dying to meet Mimette's instructor and it would be such a shame if we missed him."

Christina and Will give me a look, barely containing their laughter. I shake my head as subtly as I can in response, Christina's sister picks up on the interaction anyways.

"Something wrong with your teacher, Chris?" She cocks her head to the side.

"I'll catch up with you guys later." I wave to my friends and hurry away before they can squeeze an answer out of her.

"_ Is _something wrong with your instructor?" Michael mutters to me as we're leaving.

I bite the inside of my cheek. "Uh…you'll see."

What am I supposed to tell them; that he's a major dick and has been making our lives hell since day one? I don't think so. If I could tell them though, I would say that I know this introduction won't go well; he doesn't exactly like me and it's not like he's the most sociable person. I just don't want them to worry any more than they already do.

"We might find him in the training room," I say. "Come on, I'll show you."

I don't especially want to take my family to the smelly room where I hit some things and shoot at other things all day, I think that it will only cement the idea of Dauntless being useless meatheads further in their minds. Not that meeting Four will challenge that image in any way.

Sure enough, he's there beating away at one of the punching bags. He jumps at the sound of our footsteps and his eyes are wide.

"You need to go back to the Pit," he says as he approaches us. His posture is tense, like an invisible thread is pulling his spine taunt.

"You must be Mimette's instructor," my mother says, extending her hand to him.

He eyes it like it may bite him before outright refusing. "Visitors aren't allowed back here."

My mother retracts her hand, her brow furrowing in both confusion and disapproval.

"My family was interested in meeting the man teaching me to be Dauntless," I drawl. "I figured we'd find you back here."

He raises his thick eyebrows and regards me with cold eyes and a near sneer. Then his eyes shift back to my mother.

"I'm Four," he says, his voice strangely terse.

"Do you have a last name, Four?" Michael asks.

"Nope."

Michael is taken aback. "He does that," I mutter to him.

"Mimette said that you have them spar," my father says, stepping in front of Four when he tries to duck past him.

He huffs. "Yes. Your daughter's doing…" he glances at me out of the corner of his eye "…fine."

Honestly, that was more of a compliment than I really expected him to give me.

"Fascinating," Minerva says. "Tell me, how do you match your students?"  
"Dauntless prefers to keep its initiation techniques private," he replies.

"Oh sure, but I've always been just fascinated by Dauntless fighting styles. Being brought up in Erudite I must have learned techniques a little differently." Mark pulls a face and nudges her, but she ignores him.

"Dauntless isn't so much focused on technique and showing off. Practical application is more important."

"Interesting. But…it can be a fair bit more difficult to teach practical application without putting the students in harm's way."

He shrugs. "Depends on what you define as '_ in harm's way _'. I wouldn't exactly call the skills of some initiates dangerous.

Mark blanches. "You have them just bare knuckle boxing day in and day out?" He lets out an incredulous laugh. "That's insane."

"Mark." Minerva puts her hand on his arm. Then she looks back to Four, a curious expression on her face. "I think we might have met before."

"I think I'd remember if we had."

"Well, in that case, I'm Minerva Malachite. Mimette's eldest sister."  
"I know."

"I know you said that you like to keep initiation techniques private but I'm so curious," Melanie says as she takes a step toward him.

He steps back. "There's a shock."

She brushes the comment off. "How do you go about teaching them the social and cultural norms of your faction? In Erudite, we have mentorship groups in which the older members teach the initiates. It certainly can't be all about fighting, can it?"

Michael chuckles. "I think that question might be a little above his paygrade, Melanie."

"Nonsense. He's the Dauntless equivalent of the head of initiation, he should be qualified to answer."

"Uh," Four steps back again, "I just…teach the material. I would take up that kind of thing with Eric Coulter."

Michael scoffs. "You've never met him, have you?"

"I think he has," my mother says. "You're about the same age, right? You would have known each other during initiation."  
He suddenly looks very uncomfortable. "Uh…yeah… _Anyways _, you should all really get back to the Pit. Families really aren't supposed to be back here, we're not giving tours."

"Well that's a shame," Minerva says. "I can only imagine the state of this room when it's in use."

I glance away and try not to laugh. I can't tell if she's glorifying training or insulting it.

"Mhm." Four's tone is becoming more strained by the second. "It was…nice meeting you all."  
"And the same, Four." My father extends his hand and Four seems afraid to touch him too. Instead he turns away and walks over to the throwing knives table, straightening the blades and making it clear that the conversation is over.

"Well that was rude," my father murmurs.

My mother doesn't reply, she takes his hand and the two of them are the first to start to leave. As we're walking away, I notice the way that Minerva's eyes linger on everything, drifting back to Four every so often until the heavy double doors shut.

We're walking back toward the main floor of the Pit, having just emerged from the long hallway back into the noise when a stranger's voice makes all of us pause.

"Carolina," the stranger calls.

My mother whips around, something almost afraid passing through her expression for a quick second. My father grips her arm tightly, looking every bit as tense.

"Well I never thought that I'd see you grace the halls of Dauntless with your presence." A woman with long black dreads and brown eyes just like my mother's leans against the railing. She wears heavy, dark makeup that intensifies her demeanor and I glimpse the edge of an elaborate black tattoo on the inside of her forearm as she lets go of the railing and stands up straight. "What was it you called us, the rabble? Or was that Father?"

My mother says nothing, just glares her down.

"So what brings you?"

"I hardly think that's any of your concern." She sneers.

The woman raises her eyebrows, then her gaze shifts to my father. "And John. After all these years I continue to be surprised."

"What's that supposed to mean?" My father's tone is just as poisonous as my mother's.

"Why don't you ask your wife." The woman gives them an awful smile, and one that I unfortunately recognize as very similar to my mother's.

"Bella, why don't you-"

"Belladonna," she corrects my mother bitterly.

"Leave." All of the politeness leaves her voice and she eyes her with a stone cold look.

Belladonna chuckles. "And miss what may be my only opportunity to catch up with my _dearest _big sister for another thirty or so years?"

My mother raises her eyebrows. "And who's fault is that?"

She doesn't answer her question, instead she says, "You know, I saw Natalie Prior wandering around earlier. She had an initiate of her own. Andrew must have really fucked up somewhere along the line. Then again, he never did have the best judgement, did he?" She mutters something else that I don't hear but my parents do; they look annoyed, and maybe just the slightest bit offended.

For a second my mother looks like she wants to tear Belladonna apart, then she relaxes again – to an extent – and puts her hand over the one my father has on her arm. "I'm here to visit my daughter, not be antagonized by you. Leave now."

Her eyes flicker toward my siblings and I, and her smirk grows. She steps forward with her arms spread out in sort of a peaceful gesture that's offset by her expression. "Right, your children." Her gaze finally settles on me and she laughs, looking back at my mother. "Isn't this just the irony to end all ironies, _Sis _? Your own daughter's part of the 'rabble' now too."

"I accept my daughter's choice so long as it makes her happy," she says stiltedly, as if she's scripted this answer.

"And John, I must say she looks _just _like you." She laughs again.

"No?" Minerva mutters. "No, she doesn't?"

My father gives my mother a Look and then glares back at Belladonna. "What. Do. You. Want. You've never wanted to speak to us before, why start now?"

"Oh, not you." She scoffs. "You, I really think everyone could do without. I wanted to see Carolina."

"So does that mean you can leave now?" My mother's voice is flat and her expression has completely bottomed out.

"Well, no. Don't I at least get to meet my new Dauntless niece?" She steps past my parents closer to me.

Minerva puts her hand on my shoulder as Mark and the twins shift closer as well. They don't seem to know Belladonna either, but they've seen enough to make them defensive.

"No." My mother pulls away from my father and stops Belladonna with a hand on her shoulder. "Leave my daughter alone."

I get the pleasure of seeing Belladonna's expression darken completely before she turns on my mother and grabs her wrist before she can retract her hand. A tense moment passes and Belladonna inhales like she's about to say something, but is cut off my mother's phone vibrating.

"Excuse me." She mutters and then pulls out of Belladonna's grip and steps away, pulling her phone from the hidden pocket in her dress. As she puts the phone to her ear I can see the red ring around her wrist from Belladonna's grip.

Not even five seconds later, the twins' phones ring as well.

"Sorry." Melanie gives me an apologetic look just like the one she gave me back in that restaurant all those months ago.

"I have to take this," Michael says at the same time.

Belladonna takes the opportunity to get closer, all but brushing off my father, siblings, and sister-in-law's protectiveness. She smiles again. "What's your name?"

"My name is Mimi," I say as coldly as I possibly can.

"Interesting. Good luck with initiation." She chuckles. "You're gonna need it."

"I think I've figured that that much out for myself already. Thanks for the hot tip though." I fold my arms and take half a step backward into Minerva.

She chuckles. "D'you talk to everyone like that?"

"With a few exceptions."

"Heh. You might just make it as a Dauntless yet." She turns on her heel and walks away, ignoring the glare that Michael throws her as she passes him.

"Pay her no mind, Mim," My father says, putting his hand on my shoulder. "She's just trying to get under your skin. It's a hobby of hers."

"Who the hell was that?" Minerva asks.

"Your mother's younger sister. She's…got a _personality _to her."

"That's one way of putting it." Minerva rolls her eyes.

"Mom has a sister?" Mark cocks his head to the side in confusion. This is the first any of us have ever heard of either of our parents having siblings. What with the way that they always taught us to keep each other close I had figured that the reason we had no aunts and uncles around was that we never had any to begin with, not that our mother had an estranged Dauntless sister with whom she obviously parted with on bad terms.

"We were never all that close." My mother returns to the conversation, looking less rattled and more disappointed. The twins return as well, looking guilty. "It's fine. She shouldn't bother you beyond today." She sighs and I know what's coming. "Mim, the twins and I…have to go. We have some business to attend to that can't be put off until later and we're so sorry-"

"It's fine," I assure her, and the twins too. "Really. I'm fine."

She hugs me tightly and for a second I think she's going to start crying. But my mother never cries; has gotten upset, sure, but I've never actually _seen _her cry. She kisses the top of my head and then my cheek.

"I'll…see you next year, right?"

"With Jeanine. She's already promised."

"With Jeanine," I repeat. "I love you, Mom."

She hugs me again. "I love you too, my dear girl. Always. No matter what." She seems reluctant to let go of me, but does anyways. When she steps away, my father puts his arm around her shoulders.

"See you next year, Sis." Michael hugs me. "Or sooner."

"Hopefully sooner."

"Love you."

"Love you too."

He steps away and goes to Maureen, handing her the keys to their car and saying, "I'll just go with Melanie."

Melanie wraps me in a crushing hug as well. "I'm so sorry, we all are."

"I know." I pat her back. "I understand, Mel, I do."

"You'll…understand it more when you're working too."

"I'm sure. Tell Vic and Gwen hi for me, okay. And I'll try to see them when I can leave the compound…and that I miss them…a–a lot."

"I will. They miss you too." She squeezes me tighter for a second. "And so do I. I love you so much, Mimette."

"I love you too." My throat tightens for a second but I push it away. I can't cry, not now, I won't.

She leans back but keeps her hands on my shoulders. "I…I…" I've never heard her at a loss for words before. She runs her fingers through her long, curly hair and smiles even though she looks miserable to be leaving me. "Be safe, okay? I'm…so glad that you're happy…I just-" her next breath comes out heavy like she's almost crying. "I just want you to be happy."

"And I am." I try to smile reassuringly at her but it doesn't feel – and probably doesn't look – very convincing. "I promise."

"I know you are. I love you." She kisses my forehead and then moves to go stand next to Michael.

I wave at them as the go, Michael and Melanie talking quietly and my mother solemnly after kissing my father goodbye. She looks back at me quickly and I try to smile – try being the operative word.

"Shall we walk around a bit more before we get going?" my father asks.

I shrug. "Um, sure. What do you want to see?"

"Let's just wander," Maureen suggests. "I've heard the Pit is a very nice place to just explore."

"From Amelie?" I ask sort of teasingly.

"Yes, from Amelie. We're friends, y'all don't have to act like it's some big scandal."

"It sort of is," Mark says matter-of-factly. "If you haven't noticed, Erudite in general but the upper crust in particular don't really make a habit of getting friendly with the Dauntless."

"Oh believe me, I've noticed." She laughs. "Still, if Mim's here then there has to be something to admire."

"She isn't wrong there," Minerva says and Mark gives her a funny look.

I look back at her in surprise and she smiles at me, then looks back out across the Pit with near reverence in her expression. But she doesn't say anything else on the matter, so I don't ask.

Myra and Edward are still hanging around when we reach the main floor of the Pit and I wave them over.

"This is Mimi," Myra says to the man I assume is her father.

"Ah, the one you've told me so much about?"  
"The very same."

"I'm Gale." He extends his hand to me. "A pleasure."

"Nice to meet you. Um, this is my father, brother, sister, and sister-in-law. My mother and other siblings left a little while ago."

"Aw, what a shame," Myra says. She nods at Minerva. "So she's the one that taught you to do the knife thing?"

Minerva and I laugh.

I shake my head. "No. That's Melanie that taught me to do that, she and I are a little closer in age."

"I prefer to just use my fists." Minerva laughs like she's kidding, but she's Candor; they don't exactly take to sarcasm very well.

Mark forces an awkward chuckle. "What my sister means to say is that…er…" He cuts his eyes at Minerva and she shrugs.

"Kidding, of course."

I give her a deadpan look. Like I've said before, I don't actually know if Minerva kept up her little hobby because she never talks about it. After loving it so much when she was my age I guess it is kind of weird that she's never mentioned it once since she left Erudite.

"Well than I guess you and Mimi have that in common," Myra says with an almost diabolical snicker.

"Stop," I groan. I can practically see my father stressing over my wellbeing. I'll never hear the end of it once Jeanine gets word of what I've been doing, I'm sure. She's always been a little overprotective, even more so than my parents and that's really saying something.

But Minerva just grins and then tousles my hair. "I guess we do." Mark mutters something to her that makes her roll her eyes whisper back to him, "Don't get so uptight."

Edward's moms introduce themselves next. The tall woman smiles and extends her hand to first me and then my family. "I'm Laurel and this is my wife, Catalina, and our son Edward." Edward waves, unable to tear his eyes from my father.

"Mimette's mentioned you two a few times," Mark nods to Myra and Edward. "It's so nice to meet you in the flesh.

"Y-yeah." Myra flashes an awkward smile.

We exchange pleasantries with them for a few more minutes before heading off. As we're walking away, my father's arm settles around my shoulder, something grim in his expression as he steers me away from the thick of the crowd. Then he leans down to talk quietly to me.

"Okay," he takes a deep breath. "Obviously I didn't make this clear to you before, but you need to stop telling people things like Melanie has a knife collection. We have an image to protect."

"Dad, this isn't Erudite," I say. "If anything, people think it's cool."

He sighs through his nose. "The fact that the Dauntless find it appealing is not comforting, Mimette, and I don't really think that your sister would appreciate you revealing personal information like that either."

I nod even though I don't really understand. "Okay, sure." It's fine, I know it is. But my parents have always cared a lot about our family's image. It's not enough for them to just be good at their jobs but they've got to have the perfect family as well and an Erudite daughter who plays with knives for fun doesn't fit that image. Neither does a Dauntless daughter, but there isn't a lot they can do about that.

We take another lap around the Pit, catching up. It's been a while since we've been all together like this, not since the holidays. My father fills me in on the party he and my mother put together for Jeanine, a small event comprised mostly of their closest friends; they're going to start boxing up the things in my bedrooms soon too, both the one at my parents' house and the room I stayed in at Jeanine's, and he looks pained when he says that. I ask him, quietly so as not to be overheard, if he'll pass along the pictures I had of my friends and I on the wall. I don't care about the rest. Minerva and Mark don't talk much aside from vague allusions to being busy, not having much time for a personal life they already tend to neglect for the good of their faction. I can't imagine what it must be like to be in their shoes, but I guess I should. Next year, we'll go up to Amity and spend the day with Mark and our cousins. I'll get to see Casey again, I make a resolution to see her before that nevertheless.

We reach the top level and I know that it's time to say goodbye. Mark has been checking his watch for the last ten minutes; he's got somewhere to be and is just too polite to say anything.

"I love you very much." He lifts me off my feet. "I'm so glad to hear that you're doing…doing okay. Don't be a stranger, okay? Seriously." He waves to me as he's walking down the hallway that leads up to the surface, waving until he disappears into the shadows.

Maureen throws her arms around my neck. "I really like your name," she says quietly. "I like your look. You're doing well for yourself, Mim." She squeezes me tighter.

I squeeze her back. "Thank you, Mau. Will you – can you, um, just…like, tell Michael I said that I love him again. And Melanie too, and Gwen and Vic." I'm going to start crying if I keep naming people. "I really do miss you guys."

She chuckles and sighs. "Try not to. You've got it good here."

"I know." And I truly do.

She pulls away and stands back, waiting for the others. My father hugs me tight too, his hand rubbing my back. "I love you so much, Mimette. No matter what you do, no matter where you go, you will always be my daughter."

"I know, Dad. I love you too."

He sounds so upset. It would have made him so happy to see me stay. It would have made all of them happy.

"I know you'll do me proud." He pulls back and wipes a tear from his eye, then lets out a mournful chuckle. "I'm sorry. I promised myself and your mother that I wouldn't do this."

"It's okay, Dad." I hug him again.

He's smiling through his obvious sadness. "You're so much like your mother, do you know that? I think you become more like her every day."

"Thanks." Never in my wildest dreams would I think I could be comparable to my mom. I'm not even being self-deprecating, it's just realistic. "I love you. Will you give mom another hug for me?"

"Oh, of course, my dear." He's very reluctant to let go but eventually does. He blows me a kiss and waves as he's walking away, then calls back, "I love you!"

Then it's just Minerva and I and her arm settles around my shoulders. "Will you take one more walk around with me?"

I glance up at her, astonished and a little unsure. People are starting to clear out, it won't be long until we'll be headed to dinner and I really should meet up with my friends so they don't worry. I've got to know what went on with Tris. But she's my big sister, so I shrug and we start another lap around the top ring.

"It really is beautiful here," she says. "I don't think the rest of our family can truly appreciate it but I know that we can." She smiles at me like we're sharing some sort of secret.

"You really think so?"

"Wouldn't say it if I didn't. I've always had an…appreciation for Dauntless and what they do. I'm almost jealous I'm not here with you."

My eyes widen and I take in a sharp breath. My powerful, incredible sister, jealous of me? It's absurd. What could she possibly have to be jealous of when she has a fifth of the city under control; when she's young, rich, and powerful in a time when there's nothing better to be? "Come again?"

"I think you heard me." Her free hand brushes away some of her dreadlocks from her shoulder. "Tell me truthfully, do you like it here?"

I don't doubt that she'll know if I lie. "It's…been hard."

She hums. "These things always are; but this world is truly what you make of it, Mimette, and I have no doubt that you'll find a way to shape it to your liking."

"Is that what you did, in Candor?"

She chuckles. "Something like that."

"Minerva," and something in my voice drips of desperation as I finally voice the question I've been dying to ask all day, "how will I know if I've made the right choice?"

She bites her lip and for once looks almost nervous. "I think…that's something you have to decide for yourself and – and, um, and choose. I am Candor because I choose to be so every day, because I want it and…" her voice drops, "I might not want it every day but I do want it. I need it."

I can hardly process what I'm hearing. Did Minerva just insinuate she regrets her choice sometimes? That she isn't the perfect faction member the representative is supposed to be?

She leans down close to my ear. "Mimette…Mimi, there are things in play right now that are impossible for you to understand but I promise that one day it will all make sense."

"What are you talking about?"

Her arm tightens around my shoulders as she hisses, "Keep your voice down!" She takes a deep breath. "I only tell you this so that you keep yourself together, because no one bothered to explain it to me. You'll gain some perspective very soon but…" she takes another deep breath. "Take your time. Mimette, this is an experience you should relish; be young while you still can."

I wish that I could explain to her how hard it is to be anything resembling what she's wishing for me when I'm intentionally being pushed to my breaking point. I'm not allowed to take my time on anything anymore and I don't think anyone relishes what we're going through, except for maybe Peter.

Instead, I nod. "Okay. I will."

Her smile returns; we're about back where we started. "Give me a big hug."

I throw my arms around her neck and she lifts me off my feet again. "I love you," she mutters. "I love you so much and I'm so incredibly proud of you."

Tears spring to my eyes. Of all the words I expected to hear today '_ proud _' wasn't on that list. No one in my family should be proud of what I did, but she is.

She kisses the side of my head and then my cheek. "I'll see you soon."

I'm shaking and tears are starting to trail down my cheeks that Minerva ignores as she gives me one last wave and then heads up the metal staircase back to the surface.

Then she's gone, and I'm alone.

I sniffle and wipe the tears from my cheeks, trying to collect myself and failing miserably. It was hard enough to leave them at the ceremony, watching them go again is almost more than I can bear. One would think I'd be used to it with Mark and Minerva, we say goodbye all the time; but this is different. This is me not being able to see them for several more weeks while going through basically hell.

I don't collapse but god do I want to. Instead, I skulk over to one of the benches along the stone wall and curl into myself, trying to keep from crying. I should go catch up with my friends, I know. But I don't want them to see me like this, I don't want anyone to see me like this.

I wonder if it was this hard for Mark and Minerva when they left. I wonder if it's still hard. Minerva doesn't always like Candor, what if I grow disillusioned with Dauntless? I'm not allowed to come back from this choice. I don't know if want to, I don't know what I want at all.


	19. Chapter 19: Glass Castle

At dinner, Edward and Myra go off to do their own thing with their group of friends and I sit with the others. We try not to let things be awkward and to pretend like we don't miss our families so we spend a good chunk of our meal in silence, occasionally looking up at each other but never able to find the right words to say.  
I miss my family already. Over the past few weeks I had almost been able to fool myself into thinking that everything was fine because I belong here, and I have new friends now, and my old life doesn't matter. But of course I matters; because I know the truth. I can never really belong in Dauntless. I could have stayed in Erudite, or gone to Amity, and I'll always wonder how either of those choices would have turned out for me. Staying in Erudite would have meant being with Kira and Eliza; we could have studied together, and maybe today I would have finally gotten to meet Kira's parents. At the end of initiation, we could have all picked apartments near each other; nothing would ever have had to really change.

I want to be happy here. I really, really do. I want to be like Mark and Minerva, separate but satisfied where I am. But I guess that's just not how it works for me; I mean it's different for them because they're normal, but I'm Divergent I guess that just means I physically cannot fit entirely into one place. I wish I could though, everyone else just seems so happy where they are and I want that so badly. I love my friends, and I like being here but I miss my family and my old friends so much and sometimes I just wish that I could go back to that; back to when everything was still the same.

"So…" Christina says, "that was…a lot."

"No kidding." Will chuckles. "I had no idea that Cara knew your sister, Mimi."

"Yeah, me neither actually." Melanie has a lot of people that she doesn't like and that don't like her, maybe she's mentioned Cara before but after a while it just all starts to blur together. However, I'm not really used to people being that blatant about it. Most people begrudgingly respect Melanie no matter how much they hate her, or at the very least they're polite. "Um, your family seemed nice, Chris."

"Yeah, frankly I was expecting a lot worse. Al, did you get a chance to see your family?"

Al looks up from his food. "Huh? Uh, no, I didn't see them."

"I'm sorry, Bud." Will puts his hand on his shoulder.

Al shrugs him off. "It's fine. It doesn't make much of a difference to me."

After all the crying that Al's done, I would think that he'd be really excited to see his family again.

Tris gives him an odd look, but then seems to shrug it off.

I nudge her gently with my elbow. "That wasn't as terrible as it could have been, right?"

She chuckles. "I mean, yes, but I wouldn't call it good."

I drop my voice to just above a mutter. "Just wait until next year. My mother promised she'd drag Jeanine away from her office for an hour or so to visit me too."

Tris nearly spits out her drink and Will audibly chokes on his own spit.

"You're shitting me!" he exclaims.

"I keep telling you guys that we're really close and that she's a very close personal friend of both of my parents so I don't know why you're still surprised."

"You'll have to forgive us." Will laughs. "It's…jarring. It was weird enough to see _the _Michael Malachite actually smiling, and I'm still processing that."

I giggle. "Just wait till you meet Gwen."

Will's quiet for a second before things seem to connect and he pulls a face. "Fine. Dr. Malachite I'll believe, but there is no way in hell or heaven high that you're going to make me believe _Gwendolyn fucking Morgan _is just a completely different person the moment she's out of the public eye."

"I guess you'll just have to see it for yourself then."

"And I won't believe it a moment sooner."

"You guys are doing that thing again," Christina says with a slight whine to her voice. "You know, the one where you just talk like any of us have any clue what you're going on about."

"My sister's fiancée is head of the chemistry department."

"She's terrifying," Will interjects. "My sister works with her and she's just kind of…" he gives me a quick glance, "yeesh."

I laugh. "I've seen her in work mode. You don't have to explain it to me."

"Have you heard that rumor about, like, you know, the one where she just kind of…sprang out of the shadows one day; fully formed and capable of mapping advanced chemical equations."

I snicker. "Yeah, whatever. They say basically the same thing about Jeanine's secretary. For a faction of intellectuals, people can be astoundingly stupid."

"It's funny. And it's not like anyone knows where she comes from anyways, therefore it is also plausible."

"You're an idiot," I say teasingly. "She transferred from Dauntless. Fuckin' her mother was the leader two years ago, don't know how anyone forgot that."

Will is silent long enough for me to realize my mistake. Gwendolyn hates being associated with Dauntless and it's not really something I'm supposed to just go around telling people.

"I guess the truth really is stranger than fiction." He shakes his head and takes a sip of his water.

"Yeah, you can't go around telling people that. She hates it."  
He sniggers. "Yeah, I'll bet she does."

"What does that mean?" Al asks.

"It means that the Erudite are really crazy snobby and they find any association with Dauntless horrifically embarrassing."

"Oh." Al gives Will and I a sympathetic look. "Your families must not have been very happy then. That sucks."

"Yeah, my parents aren't happy. My sister just wants to support me in whatever I do, but they're a little…harder to convince."

"I'm sure they'll come around eventually." Christina touches his shoulder.

He shrugs. "Even if they don't it's not like it matters very much to me anymore. I don't have to care what they think of me."

"Yeah, but it's nice to have your family a hundred percent behind you."

"Dauntless is my family now." He smiles wide and puts his hand over Christina's.

After a moment the two of them seem to grow awkward and pull away, exchanging nervous laughs and smiles. I can see Will blushing and I suddenly feel awkward and jealous for no reason. Not possessive, and not really directed at either one of them in particular. Just…not liking this situation as much as I was a minute ago.

Then Will glances back at me with a smile, I don't see a hint of the quietly homesick boy that I usually see at any mention at all of our old faction. Instead he just looks energetic, alive, and happy to be here.

'_ I don't have to care what they think of me _,' his words echo in my mind and I know that there's truth to them. That none of us have to be what our parents wanted us to be, by virtue of being here we are not. But I just can't bring myself to believe that. I know that I'm never going to be exactly what my parents and my siblings wanted for me, but I can't just stop caring about their opinions entirely. It means the world to me that Minerva told me that she was proud, that she's happy that I'm here and that I'm well. She's happy that I'm here; I can't believe that any of them are really happy that I'm Dauntless.

But I guess I've always said that Minerva would fit here much better than I ever could. Maybe I'm actually right.

I smile back at him.

"I kind of wish my parents didn't come." Christina folds her arms. "They're always just...like _that _." She gestures vaguely at nothing. "I never really minded it growing up but now…" She huffs. "They're not being honest, they're just being rude."

"Oh trust me," Will says, "I so know what you mean. My whole family is stuck up Erudite and I love them, but it wouldn't kill them to be nicer from time to time. Maybe."

She cracks a smile. "I'm glad you get it. All my old friends just spouted off the same things my parents did about being polite and how I was being oversensitive just because I wanted to be, like, nice to people sometimes."

Al nods in agreement. "I know what you mean. When I was friends with - um, I had this friend who the older we got seemed to get just more and more snarky and aggressive. The whole group was like that too except for me and finally I just gave up on them. I feel bad but like…"

"It wasn't good for you," Will finishes for him. "I totally get it. Yeah, everyone in Erudite is so fixated on being better than everyone else. I couldn't take it anymore, something had to give and I know it broke my family's hearts seeing me leave but...I couldn't be that guy anymore. I felt bad all the time and everyone else felt bad too."

I nod. "Friendships in Erudite seem to form just exclusively out of being just completely miserable all the time. Not mine, I had - I had a couple friends who kept things light but, I mean I watched people around me."

Will nods in understanding.

"I mean I had a dog," Christina said, "so when push came to shove he always cheered me up."

"Lucky," Will replies. "I wanted a cat so bad when I was a kid. But Erudite doesn't allow pets."

"What?!" Christina exclaims. "You weren't allowed to have pets?!" She smacks the table with her palm. "Why not?!"

He shrugs. "Because they're illogical. "What's the point in providing food and shelter for an animal that just soils your furniture, makes your home smell bad, and ultimately dies?"

"But they're cute, and fun, and they love you so much!"

"Yeah, but people can do the same thing," I say.

"Not really. I had a dog named Chunker and he was better than any person, let me tell you." She laughs. "There was this one time that we were having relatives over and my dad made this huge rotisserie chicken and then left it alone to go do something else and by the time he came back Chunker had knocked it down and eaten the whole thing. It was hilarious."

Will and I share a look. Then he says, "Was it though? I mean there goes your dinner, right? And you were having family over."

"Yeah but we just went out instead. Still it was really, really funny even with the mess."

He rolls his eyes. "Okay, sure. Why not just get a dog after initiation if you're so nostalgic?"

"Because…" her smile drops and she picks at her food uncomfortably. "you know. Dogs are kind of ruined for me now; the aptitude test and all…"

We're not supposed to talk about the Aptitude Test at all even after our choosing. I suppose that's for the sake of not spoiling it, saving the those who run the test the trouble of having to change it every year so as not to influence other people's choices. I especially am not supposed to talk about it, my strange results at all. But I see time and time again that no one really seems to heed that rule. Even my sister, who assists in running the test as one of her duties as head of the psychology department, seems completely unconcerned with the rules against talking about it; asking about my results not even an hour afterward.

"You mean...killing the dog, right?" Will says with a grimace. The mood at our table has shifted dramatically, all of us far more somber.

Even Christina, a dog person obviously, took the knife and killed the dog to achieve her Dauntless result. The sound of the knife clattering across the cafeteria floor echoes through my mind. I could have killed it, but I was never going to do that. As much as I don't want to hurt people, I want to hurt animals even less. I can't imagine ever stabbing anything, real or simulated that dog seemed so alive.

It wasn't real, it visibly changed once I calmed it down. But if anything that only makes the thought worse; it wasn't real, it can't feel fear or pain really. But I can't see it other way, defensive and afraid.

"Yeah," Christina says, snapping me from the memory of my test. "I mean you guys all had to do that too, right?"

She looks around, first at Al, then Tris, and her eyes narrow. "You didn't."

"Hm?" Tris looks up.

"You're hiding something. People fidget when they lie."

"Come again?"

"In Candor," Al says, "we're taught to identify what people look like when they lie, little tells that aren't always reliable but in a general sense are pretty applicable. I guess it's kind of like a science."

"Oh." She scratches the back of her neck. "Well…"

"See, there it is again!" Christina points at her hand."

I weave my fingers together under the table and squeeze my hands together, not wanting Christina to pick up on the same tells.

Then, with no small amount of horror, I think of my sister. I run back through the events of the day, I don't think I said or did anything that might have given me away. They never bothered to ask about my Aptitude Test again, my parents and the twins no doubt aware of the fact that I lied to them the night before the Choosing Ceremony. Still, I have no idea what she may or may not have picked up on. If she does know, at least she was kind enough not to say anything around the rest of our family.

"No," Tris says after a long pause. "I didn't kill the dog."

"How did you get Dauntless without using the knife?" Will narrows his eyes.

"How do you know that's the only way to get Dauntless?" I say before Tris can speak.

"How would you know it isn't?" There's no hostility in his tone, only curiosity.

"I don't, but I assume the test is a bit more complicated than that. I mean if there were only one way to receive a result, why not just give us a normal test."

"So that we answer honestly," Al says. "People lie, Mimi."

"Yeah, I know."

"And they did give a normal test before," Will says. "Shouldn't you know that being as close to Jeanine as you are?"

"She and my parents don't like to talk about it. Probably because we're not supposed to."

"It doesn't matter." Christina makes a dismissive gesture. "We've already gotten through it, and it's not like we're spoiling it for anyone."

"Back to the subject at hand," Will turns his head, "Tris?"

She grimaces, clearly unhappy that I hadn't derailed the conversation completely. She sighs and then says, "I didn't get Dauntless. I got Abnegation."

A silence descends over the table. It's not often that people choose a faction they don't have an aptitude for, it's even less often that those people admit it. I guess I'm not the only one pretending to be something that I'm not.

"But you chose Dauntless anyways," Christina says slowly. "Why?"  
"I told you," she snickers, "it was the food."

She laughs. "Did you guys know that Tris had never seen a hamburger before she came here? Four had to explain the whole thing to her."

"Also she got real prickly with him," I interject. "Don't forget that."

"Like you have any room to talk." She drops her voice into a stilted monotone, "If you don't want people asking follow up questions then maybe you should answer the first time."

"That is not what I sound like."

"It was," Will says. "You could basically hear the stick up your ass."

"You cannot bitch at your sister about me being mean to you and then say things like that."

"He's right though," Christina says through her laughter. "You were so prim and proper, it's weird to see you now

"Okay, but at least I could let people get through a sentence without interrupting. As I seem to recall, that was how I found out your name."

Christina flushes, remembering how Four got up in her face on the first day.

"Okay, okay," Al interrupts. "I think that we can all agree that we all sucked when we first got here and just be happy that we don't suck anymore."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Will says. "I've been great since day one."

I snort and Christina says "Yeah, then you opened your mouth and it's all been downhill from there."

Will makes an exaggerated whining noise. "Al," he says, drawing out the l in his name. "Mimi and Chris are being jerks again."

Al raises his hands. "I have no control over them."

"Oh, some help you are." He rolls his eyes and mock sulks, resting his chin on both of his fists. Christina and I exchange smiles over him, Al just shakes his head.

After dinner is over we walk back to the dorms, where we'll see our rankings. I feel like my heart is beating out of my chest and it must show on my face because Christina grabs my hand and smiles at me.

"You good?"

"I'm nervous." Seeing my family again has only made me more aware of the fact that if I'm going to be here then I have to do well. I have to be absolutely amazing actually, because that's the only way I'm going to be successful and I absolutely have to be successful.

"We're going to be fine," she assures me.

"I need to be doing a lot better than fine."

She squeezes my hand. "Chill. I get that your mother's amazing and whatever but you don't have to be her."

I try to laugh but it comes out too flat and nervous. "I could never be her, believe me. There's no amounting to what she is."

"And you don't have to. Now come on, I wanna watch Peter throw a fit when he isn't first." She pulls me along and I laugh.

Peter can't be ranked first he's nowhere near as good as Edward in any regard, it's just something that everyone knows even if Peter himself won't admit it.

We lose the others at some point, Christina is practically running and I'm quite excited myself, also she has yet to let go of my hand.

We shoulder our way toward the front of the crowd, where Four leans against the wall with a board at his feet, whatever's written on it faces the wall.

"For those of you who just got here, I'm explaining how we determine the ranks," he says. "Dauntless initiation works off of a points system, sort of like how your grades in school worked. There's a certain number of points possible for every stage of initiation. Obviously you gain points for doing well, lose points for losing or just generally being bad at training, the one with the highest number of points is ranked first. To make things fair, different skills are scored differently, with the fights being weighted the heaviest in stage one. For the fights we work off of a skill level based system, and your scores depend on your skill level and the level of the person you won or lost against. You earn more points for improving and more points for beating someone of a high skill level. I don't reward preying on the weak. That is cowardice." I swear that he glances at Peter when he says that. ""If you have a high rank, you lose points for losing to a low-ranked opponent." Molly grumbles under her breath and a snicker runs through our little crowd. "Stage two is weighted more heavily because it's more tied to overcoming cowardice. That said, it's extremely hard to rank high at the end if you start out bad in stage one. What we're about to show you are just your rankings, not the Dauntless-born's and we're not going to list the points either, just where you stand. We'll announce cuts tomorrow and the fact that you transfers and the Dauntless-born may have different skill levels won't be taken into consideration."

"Then what is even the point of using skill based grading?" I mutter, Christina shrugs.

"Tomorrow four of you could be factionless and none of them, or four of them and none of you, or any combination thereof. That said, here are your ranks."

He hangs the board on the wall and steps away, before the clamor can grow too loud he shouts, "Stage two starts Monday, be ready."

The rankings on the board are:

Edward

Peter

Of course. As much as I hate him, I can never deny that Peter's good. But it makes me feel good to see that Edward ranked above him.

Mimi

God, I half expected it to just say 'Ice Queen', Well okay, I guess that rank is pretty good. It's not like I didn't know that I wasn't going to be number one, there are lots of better fighters than me and I could absolutely be doing worse. Like Christina said, I've got time to improve. I just have to do better than them in stage 2. I skim down the columns for other names that I recognize.

Will

Christina

Molly

Tris

Drew

Al

Myra

How is Myra nearly last?! I mean I'm glad that Will and Christina are doing well and Tris is mostly out of danger of being cut, but Myra is a good fighter or at least she's gotten better. I get that Al and Drew are powerhouses, but Al has lost almost every fight he's been in.

Skill based grading my ass.

Apparently I'm not the only one who takes issue with the rankings, Molly is the first to break the tension in the room when she shouts, "What?!" She points at Christina. "I beat her! I beat her in minutes! How is she ranked above me?!"  
It's not like anyone needs to be reminded of what Molly did to Christina, or what followed. Christina herself tenses when Molly points at her. The memory hasn't faded for her at all either.

"If you intend to secure yourself a high rank, I suggest you don't make a habit of losing to low-ranked opponents," says Four, his voice cutting through the mutters and grumbles of the other initiates. He glances at Tris and then walks away.

Molly whirls on Tris, her face twisting into an ugly snarl. "You! You're going to pay for this."

Al plants himself in between Tris and Molly, but rather than try and attack her Molly just stalks out of the dorm, muttering. It's surprising, and concerning, Molly has never struck me as someone to take her time getting revenge and biding her anger until it's most advantageous to use it.

Peter is also concerning, I'd expect him to be loudly indignant and furious about coming in second to Edward. Instead he's lounged on his bed talking to Drew about some movie. In a way, if I didn't know him, he almost seems nonthreatening. There's nothing in his expression that suggests that he's scheming or even upset. But Peter's not a graceful loser, any offence however small is worth reacting to for him. He put both Tris and I in the infirmary for managing to land a good punch or two, and he's consistently antagonizing everyone seemingly for nothing but his own entertainment.

"Hey, number nine. Nice." Will hugs me from behind, his arms wrapping around my shoulders.

I put my hands on his forearms. "Thanks. Looks like the three of us are in the top five." I grin at Christina and she returns it. Will lets go to high-five her.

"And number seven." Will claps his hand on Tris' shoulder.

"It still might not be good enough," she reminds him.

"Yeah, but it's a lot better than some people," she glances over at Peter and Drew, "ever thought you would do."

I chuckle. "After what happened yesterday, I don't think Tris has to worry about anyone ever underestimating her ever again."

"You're gonna be fine," Will says. "Now come on, this is something worth celebrating. We're one step closer to being Dauntless."

"By all means." Christina takes Tris and Al's hands and starts pulling them toward the door.

"You guys have fun." Al pulls his hand away. "I'm just gonna go to bed."

"Come on, Al. You don't know how the Dauntless-born did, none of us know anything for sure." Christina tries to grab his hand again but he moves away.

"I'm just…tired."

We give him one last concerned glance before heading for the door, leaving him to his sadness. As we pass by Edward and Myra's bunk, I pause.

"I'll catch up with you guys."

Myra and Edward are sitting together on the edge of the bottom bunk, their hands intertwined and Myra's face pressed into the crook of his neck. Edward nods at me and I sit down on her other side. I hear a stifled sob come from her and I put my hand on her shoulder.

"Myra," I say softly.

She looks at me finally, her cheeks wet with tears and her mascara starting to run, painting black rivulets down her face. I try to wipe them away with the pad of my thumb but most of it only smears.

"What?" her voice is soft and low.

"I'm sorry. Do you…do you want to come out and celebrate with Tris, the others, and I?"

She sniffles and scowls. "What's to celebrate? Your successes? Congratulations by the way."

I won my fight against Myra yesterday. Maybe if I hadn't she wouldn't be ranked so low, I wouldn't be ranked as high as I am but I can't help but think that doesn't matter if it meant sparing her. At least one if not two people from the transfer class is going to get cut, there's no way that four Dauntless-born did badly enough to spare all ten of us.

"I'm sorry," I say. "I know how hard you've worked since the beginning, we all know how hard you've worked. It's not fair and it's not right that you're ranked last.

Myra turns her head and looks in the direction of Al's bunk, where he's curled up on his side. There's something fierce and bitter in her eyes, he lost pretty much every fight and he still came out ahead of her.

"You belong here and it is a fucking travesty that Four and Eric can't see that."

_You belong here more than I ever could _, I think.

She sniffles again. "Thanks, Mimi."

"Is there anything you need? Anything at all?"

She rubs her eyes with the heels of her hands, smearing her eyeshadow and eyeliner as well. "No, I think I'm good. Go celebrate with the others, 'kay? I'm fine here."

I put my hands over hers. "Are you sure. I'd rather stay here with you if that's what you want."

"No, go have fun. I'll…see you later." I hug her tight and we stay like that for a few seconds, then she lets out a shaky breath and pulls away.

"Go."

I try to smile at her but it's hard when she's so sad and about to be cut. She smiles back at me through her tears and I have to walk out the door before I start crying too. I take a second in the hallway to just breathe and collect myself. I do think that if I had known Myra wasn't doing well I would have thrown that fight. She's my friend and maybe that is worth sacrificing my rank for. Four did say that it was possible to greatly improve your rank in stages two and three. I should have just taken the blow to my pride and been done with it.

I don't actually go and catch up with my friends. Instead I go to one of the salons in the Pit and stare at my reflection in the lit-up mirror as white-haired stylist runs a brush covered in dye over certain sections of my now bleached hair then wrapping them in foil. They try to talk to me as they work but eventually tire of my monotonous, clipped answers and resign themselves to silence.

I'm sure my friends have begun to wonder where I am by now, or maybe they haven't, they seemed pretty eager to go out and celebrate however the Dauntless do it. I'm not really Dauntless, I wouldn't know how to act I guess so it doesn't matter. I can keep faking all I like, maybe even for the rest of my life, but I'll always know that I don't really belong here. Tris, no matter what she said about getting Abnegation, absolutely belongs here. She's been the bravest and boldest among us since day one, I've just been trying to find a place that I fit in this incredible mess. Already I've begun to notice the various subcultures that Dauntless has, just like Erudite had. I like to think that somewhere in there is the sort of person that I can be happy pretending to be.

'_ I just want you to be happy _,' my sister said. It wasn't a lie when I told her that I am happy, that I like being here and that I like my friends. I've admired Dauntless for so long, but it's different from the outside looking in. As an Erudite I only saw the idea of Dauntless, and in some ways I guess I was only seeing what I wanted Dauntless to be; the kind of messy freedom I thought might make me happy in a way that I never could be in Erudite. I couldn't see what awaited me here, and obviously it's nothing like I ever imagined. Good and bad, this isn't the Dauntless that I thought I knew when I admired them from the school windows or when I watched them in the cafeteria or when I talked to Kira.

_Kira _. I wish I could see her, that I could visit. I wonder how she's doing in Erudite, it's kind of rough even for some of the toughest people. I hope that she's happy, I really hope that it's everything she hoped it would be because god knows that's not how it worked out in Erudite. A very selfish part of me wishes that she'd stayed here, it would be so comforting to have a face that I knew well, someone who knew the faction and might be able to help me.

I want to visit. I wish I could talk to her, even just to see her, or Eliza, or Casey would be such a comfort. I love my new friends, but I miss my old ones more than I could possibly say. Things were so much easier when we were all together, we all thought that we knew who we were and what our futures were. I had just assumed that I would work things out in time, that as I got older Erudite would just start to feel more right to me.

No such luck I guess; I mean Dauntless is...it's fine, I like it here. I swear I do. I just...can't help wondering what might have been had I eventually been able to work things out, to just be happy there. There are things that I miss, not just people but tiny little things I'd hardly noticed or always taken for granted because that was just how my life was. And now I'm here and I don't know what I'm doing, I can't even really figure out why I'm here at all.

An hour or so later the hairdresser says, "And there you go. How do you like it?"

She helps me pull my hair back into an elegant style and for a moment I'm reminded of my old self decked in blue and trying to be something I wasn't. I guess I'm still trying at that second thing.

"I like it a lot. Thank you."

After paying at the front I walk out onto the balcony that overlooks the center of the Pit, scanning the crowd for my friends. I almost run my fingers through my hair out of habit, but stop myself. Maybe I should go back and be with Myra, this is our last night together and I should try to make the most out of it, right?

I should probably get back before she goes to sleep too; I want her to see my hair as soon as possible. If she's leaving forever than the least I can do to remember her is take her fashion advice.

I take my time walking back to the dormitory; as much as I want to celebrate with Tris and the others, I feel like Myra needs my support. When I finally arrive it's empty save for Al, Edward, and Myra. She lifts her head and then jumps up at the sight of me, a big grin splitting her face.

"Mimi!" she squeals. Her tears have dried now, but she obviously hasn't moved much since I left because the running makeup is still on her cheeks.

"Do you like it?"

"I love it." She puts her hands on my shoulders. "I _told _you it would look good."

"And you were right. Now here's hoping that Eric and/or Four don't personally skin me alive for not coming off as a hundred percent loyal to Dauntless."

"It's just a color," she says.

"Oh I know that. But y'know," I make sort of an exaggerated gesture with my hands, "Four."

She giggles and then hugs me tight. "I'm going to miss you so much."

I hug her back, once again fighting the urge to cry. "It's not going to be the same without you." I leave out the part where I'm so worried about her, about how she'll manage to survive factionless.

"You can't forget about me, okay? I know we weren't friends for very long, but please don't."

"I could never."

Eventually, with great reluctance, we pull apart and I go sit down on my bed. Edward and Myra cuddle, both of them starting to drift off. I watch them for a minute, Myra's gentle smile as she leans against his chest and Edward with tears gathering in his eyes as he runs his fingers through her hair. Then I pull my journal out from under my mattress and tear my eyes away.

_October 8 th 499 _

_Today was Visiting Day, which I've been anticipating and dreading ever since I left. My parents and the twins know that I lied to them; they know and I half expected them to bring it up. And for the first time in many weeks, I feel bad; I feel guilty about it all over again, and I can't help but wonder what might have happened if I had chosen just based off of that one promise. _

_Of course, there's no guarantee I would have made it through Erudite's initiation either. Their cuts will be made tonight or tomorrow since they're the only other faction with the ten week initiation. Kira and Eliza will be fine; in fact I wouldn't at all be surprised if Eliza was ranked first, she's always been kind of a genius. Actually more than kind of; she's a genius. _

_Me though, well I'm certainly in no danger of getting cut but three of my friends are. I absolutely couldn't care less about Drew, but if he gets cut that means Myra also gets cut and I don't want to be here without her. I don't want to be here without any of my friends, they make this all so much more bearable, but more than anything I just don't want to see them factionless. I can hardly say that I know first hand how bad it is, really that seems more like Tris' area of expertise, but I know enough. I know that it makes being successful and comfortable completely impossible. But more than anything I'm furious that Myra's last; I love Al to death but she absolutely should have ranked above him. She beat Tris and Christina in the first few weeks, she almost beat me and I just can't let go of the idea that maybe I should have let her. That's not really a very Dauntless thing to say - it's not really an Erudite thing to say either to be fair - but I care about her so much and I would do anything to help her ranking. I think Edward and I are in the same boat in that regard. _

_I'm glad he got ranked first instead of Peter, I'm really happy for him. I just wish that he could celebrate that. I watched him train, I was on the receiving end of that training, he works so hard and it's incredible.  
I just...I just like my friends a lot and I feel like they deserve to be here a lot more than I do. Don't get me wrong, I want to be here more than anything in the world; but there's no way in this life or the next that I'm ever going to let that come at the cost of my friends. Erudite was twice as competitive just in a different way, but my friends and I never let it get in the way of our bond and I'm sure that Kira and Eliza are still that way. Shrewd as she can be sometimes, Eliza is a good person who cares a whole lot about the people close to her and would never intentionally do anything to hurt them; though I'm sure the security of being a shoo-in for the top ten definitely helps her stay that way. _

_I am a little worried about Kira though, not because I don't think she's smart enough to pass because she definitely is. It's just that I don't think she has it in her to be mean like Eliza can be, the mean that it takes to be a high-ranking Erudite. That's not necessarily a bad thing - scratch that, it's not a bad thing at all - but there are a lot of people around her now that would gladly do absolutely anything to get ahead. I never had that, Casey never had that, actually it always kind of scared me that Eliza did because I've seen her when there's a competitive element involved; she gets mean and it's not fun to watch. _

_Or maybe I'm wrong; this is Kira's birth faction after all, maybe she's just as determined to win by any means necessary as anyone here. Granted, Marlene and her friends don't really strike me as being like that but I've never had to fight them and I really hope that I never do because I have a feeling that they would not hesitate to punch me in the face. _

_I'm just scared. It feels weird to write that down, a lot more plain on paper than it is in my head, but I'm scared and I don't want to do this anymore. I still want to be Dauntless, I want it with all my heart I think, but I don't want to do this . I don't want to get up and run laps at six in the goddamn morning, I don't want to do target practice, I don't want to listen to Four, I don't want to be hit, I really don't want to hit other people; I just want this all to be over. I want to have this be over worth and get on with my life; go finish school and start worming my way into Dauntless' leadership as fast as humanly possible. _

_On some level, I get that all the things that we've been doing in training are a vital part of what makes Dauntless unique, just like a triple digit IQ and mild caffeine addiction are part of what makes Erudite unique. But I hate it; I hate it so goddamn much and I would be fucking miserable without my friends. I don't regret leaving Erudite, I think that I made the right decision and that things are going to get better and I'll be happy eventually; but truth be told I wish that I'd known what I was getting into. I think I've said that before. I think everyone wishes that. Sure, that's why we're always told that we'd better be very, very sure of our choices whether we're transferring or not - in case things don't quite turn out to be exactly like how we imagined them - but I had always thought that I had a pretty good grasp on what the different factions were like in general, now from the inside looking out I can't possibly imagine how the Dauntless that I used to admire can bring themselves to be so happy and like they haven't got a care in the world. They must know what their initiates go through, what their leaders are like. I can't fathom how they don't find it absolutely terrifying, I guess just because their Dauntless and being afraid really isn't in their nature. _

_Not me though; I am nothing if not the odd one out. I don't care what Tris says, her Abnegation result must have been a mistake or something because she just seems to fit here. Everything from the training to the personality just comes so naturally to her. More than that, she doesn't seem scared by any of this; she just takes it all in stride even though she's in real danger of being cut, I'm number three and I am goddamn terrified. I could wash out at any time and I know it; my spot here has never and will never be guaranteed. _

_I can't say the same of everyone else, every single one of them are effortlessly Dauntless and they deserve to be here, they belong here. That's why they're here in the first place, isn't it? Because they belong and because they know what they want out of life. _

_I just...want to be happy, I want to be successful and happy and those things very much go hand in hand. I want to make my family proud, now more than ever before; my sister is proud of me still, she's happy that I'm here. I still have something to live up to; I'm here because I didn't want to spend forever in my family's shadow, aren't I? _

_And speaking of family, apparently I have an aunt. A Dauntless aunt that no one ever bothered to mention before and that apparently doesn't get along with my mother. I mean, she seems kind of hard to ignore I can't possibly fathom how I'd never heard of her before. Then again, if I had a sister like that I wouldn't really want to talk about her much either. But maybe - despite how she came off - I should try and connect with her. She did seem to take an interest in me, if only to get under my mother's skin. But I guess it would be nice to have someone here that I'm tied to by a connection older than five weeks and my mother's sister...well she's family, right? That has to count for something, doesn't it? _

_Then again, I wouldn't even know where to find her. Initiation is kind of an event and she never exactly came to find me. She practically appeared out of the shadows exclusively to annoy my mother; and I'm not exactly thrilled by the idea of asking around, I mean as far as I knew there were no Malachites in Dauntless which means that she's probably tried to distance herself from the family as much as possible. _

_I don't know. I just want someone to talk to, to guide me; I'm scared and it's not like the guy who's supposed to be integrating us into Dauntless culture would be of any help given that he hates me, and also that I'm 90% sure he has no grasp on feelings as a concept positive or otherwise. _

_Or maybe I should follow Maureen's advice and go talk to Amelie, she certainly seemed nice enough. At the very least she knows my brother and seems to like him, we're not exactly the same or anything close but I can't imagine she'd ever outright tell me to fuck off. _

_And come to think of it, there is one person that I know that's here. Mark's oldest and closest friend, Pandora Steele. She grew up with my siblings and I, her father was really close to my parents for many years until one day he just wasn't. I was too little when he and my parents had their to remember him except in passing but my siblings - and my parents too on the rare occasion that they would talk about him - said that he was as close to them as Jeanine was, and that Pandora was purposefully adopted around the same time that Mark was born. _

_I never knew why Pandora chose Dauntless, just like I don't really know why Mark chose Amity they just did and that's the way that it is; but I've always missed her, having her around was like having another sister. I'm kind of surprised that we didn't run into her on Visiting Day, with all of the encounters that we had I would think that she would have sought us out. She and Mark were best friends once, and though he doesn't talk about her often anymore when he does, Mark only speaks of her with affection. Close as she was to my family, I guess it only makes sense that I try and reconnect with her; Belladonna seems like a mess of issues and family politics I don't actually know if I want to get into, but Pandora I know and I like and I miss. _

I close my journal, leaving the entry off there and making a mental note to track down Pandora's address tomorrow. She didn't leave Erudite on bad terms, it was an eventuality that everyone was always prepared for; Mark was the surprise, Pandora's departure was just disappointing for all of us. Looking back, I remember my parents speaking to her father after the ceremony, offering their condolences before rushing off to take care of initiation matters.

I used to think about that day a lot; watching my brother give us one last glance before he left with the Amity, Minerva cursing him under her breath as tears gathered in her eyes, the twins just very, very quiet; and my parents, their hands clasped and neither of them betraying any sort of emotion. I was old enough to understand what had happened, that my brother had gone away and wasn't coming back and I remember crying a lot. My parents could never take us home after the Choosing Ceremony because as the faction's leader, representative, and council liaison it was part of their duties to speak with the initiates upon their arrival in Erudite. We caught a ride home instead with one of our cousins and I remember their car pulling out of the driveway and the moment they were gone Minerva stormed out the door, her face flushed and wet with tears. Michael made some joking comment about getting his own room now that was really in poor taste, then went and locked himself in the bedroom he'd shared with Melanie where he stayed for hours. It was my closest older sister that sat with me on the couch and comforted me while I cried and she cried too and that was one of the few times that ever happened.

It was all fine eventually; Minerva eventually came back, Michael really did get to move into Mark's room and both twins were really happy about that, I stopped crying. As time went on I - and everyone else I think - began to feel his absence less and less. It was strange at first, going about our lives without our eldest brother and it was strange to not see Pandora anymore. I never saw her father again after that day, he had no more reasons to associate with us. But he wasn't _gone _, not like Pandora was; we went to see him in Amity and he came to see us, and we spent time together in City Center as a family when we could. He associated closely with our great aunt in the year or so that she was alive, and our second cousins, and their children who were close to us in age. We were still a family and no colors would ever change that.

Even so, things were different. I don't think Minerva ever quite forgave him really, she was so angry for so long. Even when the twins and I began to move past it, she was still irritable and forever in need of an outlet for her grief over her older brother that quickly transformed into pent up aggression. It wasn't just that she wanted to study hand-to-hand combat, I think she legitimately wanted to fight people; and really I don't have any proof that she never did. She was close to Pandora too, not as close as Mark, but very close. I think that she and Pandora got along well because in some ways they were very equal and opposite, they agreed on many things but had completely opposite personalities. And looking back on today, I can see that same fascination that I had with Dauntless in her eyes. I've always said that she belonged here, but…

No. Just because someone values a faction from the outside looking in doesn't mean that they belong there. Eliza has always admired Dauntless' aesthetic; but she was also looked down on their attitude on the regular, and I've scarcely met a more Erudite person that wasn't three times our age.

It terrified me back when Mark left, the concept of leaving. I saw what it did to my siblings, how much it upset them. It still terrified me when Minerva left, that time the twins were a little miffed. They'd never held Candor in very high regard despite the fact that they're the closest to another faction of intellectuals there is. They didn't see anything there worth leaving the family for and they were bitter. They already thought sort of poorly of Mark but the pain of his absence had faded significantly. I don't know what was so different about Minerva's departure, what made them so much angrier – or maybe I was just older and could understand more of it.

I was still only nine and even back then I really looked up to all of my siblings, but the twins in particular. I wanted to impress them, and I wanted to be like them, and seeing how angry Minerva and Mark leaving made them I only because more scared to even consider the fact that I might not belong in Erudite. I didn't know what was wrong with Mark and Minerva, why they ever wanted to leave, all I knew was that I couldn't be like them. Really I still don't know what prompted them to leave; aptitude I suppose, but they had their whole lives before them in Erudite. I don't even know what prompted me to leave really; it would have been much smarter to stay in Erudite, where I knew what I was to be, and where I knew what I would have to do to succeed. As I'm discovering, it's not like I'm really that much happier here. Despite what Marlene told me, that Dauntless is what you make it, I have a hard time remembering exactly _why _I'm here and what I want. And I guess I'm just questioning if I ever really knew in the first place.

I'm not like the rest of my family; I'm driven by little more than whims and impulse. I had no plan when I dropped my blood on the coals, I never bothered to investigate what I might be getting myself into prior to the Choosing Ceremony. And I'll bet anything that it shows, that my family knows just as my parents and the twins know that I lied to them.

At least Pandora never bothered to hide anything. She didn't care if people knew that she was fascinated by Dauntless, the faction she was born into before being put up for adoption. She and her father weren't a part of Erudite's upper crust like mine is, my parents met Pandora's father completely independently of their association with all of Erudite's wealthy and powerful. Pandora's father was – and still is to my knowledge – a florist. I don't actually know how he came to be friends with my parents since they don't socialize much outside of the aforementioned rich and powerful, but I also never asked. By the time I was old enough to wonder, Pandora and her father had disappeared from our lives and my parents never spoke of him again. I don't think I'll ever know what his deal was. My older siblings don't know either to be fair, Pandora's father was friends with my parents long before any of them were born. Like I said, Pandora was adopted only about two months after Mark was born.

Tomorrow I'll have to say my goodbyes to Myra and probably Al, and maybe even Tris. I don't know what I'll do if and when they're gone respectively, I know that Edward's miserable and he'll probably be miserable for a while. I can't imagine what it would be like to be put in that position.

I glance over at them again, fast asleep curled around each other. It's getting a little late and Four should be in any minute now, but I know that I'll be up most of the night anyways. I'm not tired, and I'm trying really, really hard not to cry.

I hadn't realized that I'd fallen asleep until a bloodcurdling scream wakes me. I shoot up out of bed and hit my head on the bunk above me in the process. All I can see is the vaguest outline of something on the floor. Another scream fills the room, this one higher.

"Turn on the lights!" Will shouts.

Someone does and for a second we're all blinded by the bright fluorescent lights. When my eyes adjust the first thing that I see is a pool of blood, then I see Edward; he's writhing on the ground screaming with his hands over his face and Myra is kneeled next to him. She's saying something but I can't hear her over Edward's echoing screams. From between his fingers a knife like the ones that we use to eat with in the dining hall protrudes from right where his eye is, or should be. Blood flows down his face and between his fingers.

I watch Tris move slowly from her bunk to kneel down in the pool of blood opposite Myra and she starts talking but I'm not listening. I wander across the room toward them and put my hand on Myra.

My voice is unexpectedly calm when I say, "Hey, let's go get one of the medics."

She looks up at me and I hold my hand out to her. Edward is still screaming and Tris is trying to soothe him.

"There's nothing you can do," I say. "But we can go get someone who can."

There's blood on her, and she's shaking like a leaf as she takes my hand. I lead her out of the room and I as I close the door the noise fades, but I can still hear him screaming horrifically. I lead her down the hallway and she keeps her hand in mine the entire time. The lights in the hallways dim at night, which I hadn't really noticed before. At any rate, it makes it a lot harder to find my way around. In the end we have to go through the Pit, then to the training room, then from there we know the way to the infirmary. There's a light on behind the frosted glass and I see a shadow move past it. I knock very softly and Nurse Phyllis opens the door, gasping as she notices the blood on Myra.

"My gi-"

"It's not her," I interrupt. "One of the initiates was assaulted."  
She nods and ducks back into the room, then comes back out holding a bag and trailing Solstice and Serena. We run back to the dormitory, talking a path that I've never been down before, and the three of them take care of Edward. They staunch his bleeding and sedate him, then Solstice calls for an ambulance.

Myra pleads to go with Edward, at some point Tris gets up off the floor once they've taken him away and disappears. Solstice allows it and I don't even get up to say goodbye, I just stare blankly at the blood on the ground.

I remember feeling the same way when that girl fell off the roof when I first came to Dauntless, distracted and too stunned to do or say much of anything.

When Tris comes back, she spends the better part of the night scrubbing the blood off the floor alone. I sit cross-legged on my bed and just watch, my eyes sort of glazed over. No one ever turns the lights off and no one sleeps. This is how I become acutely aware of just how isolated this room really is. It's hard to gauge time without a wakeup call or the sun. But at some point I become aware that it's morning, that breakfast will start soon.

I should try and talk someone into taking me to the City Center hospital to go see Edward and see how Myra's holding up. That's what a good friend would do. Instead what winds up happening is my eyes grow heavy before people even begin to leave for breakfast and I let them close, promising myself that I'll do something this afternoon.

The dormitory is empty when I wake up and it takes me a second to remember everything that happened. I had told myself that I would go and see Pandora today, but I feel like there are more pressing problems right now.

I change into a fresh pair of clothes and walk slowly to the Pit, all the while wondering who I might get to accompany me out of the compound; not Four certainly and I don't have any idea where Pandora lives or what she does. I just resign to wandering as I think. I don't know where my friends are, but at the moment I also don't care all that much.

Eventually the sound of music catches my attention. As I'm passing one of the many studios on the third floor of the Pit, I turn my gaze away from over the balcony to find the source of the noise. The studio it's coming from has a fully glass front wall with the door propped open. Inside Amelie is practicing alone; it's not a routine that I recognize from any showcase I've ever been to, must be a new one. I stand by the railing and watch her for awhile leap and twirl gracefully all on her toes. The all of a sudden, she stops, breathing heavilyl she stares into the mirror and then turns around to face me. I realize that I've been standing here just long enough for her to notice, just long enough to feel awkward.

She walks to the door, a gentle smile on her face that doesn't do anything to ease my nerves; lots of people smile, not everyone means it.

"Hey." she leans against the doorway, folding her arms. "You're Maureen's sister-in-law, aren't you? Mimi, right?"

"Uh...yeah. Sorry, I was just…"

"It's fine. There something I can help you with?"

"Uh no, not at all." I mean there is, but I'm not going to ask. "I'm just watching."

"Well at least come inside. You can at least sit down."

The studio is about ten degrees colder than the Pit outside, and rather than go back to practicing Amelie crosses the studio to a small fridge and pulls out two cans that as she nears I recognize as a particular brand of soda I happen to know is unique to Erudite. So how did she wind up with it?

She sits across from me with her legs crossed and slides the can to me across the wooden floor. "So I heard a rumor that something happened in the transfer dorm last night."

"Yeah. That's right." I stare absentmindedly out the glass, sipping my drink. It reminds me of home, making me nostalgic in a way that actually feels kind of pathetic. The longer I'm away the more I realize that I miss nearly everything about Erudite, small and big. Just things I'd always taken for granted because they were such a mundane part of my life.

"Someone got hurt, right?"

"Yeah. The top initiate got stabbed in the eye," I say monotonously.

"Oh...so did you know him?"

"There weren't even a hundred transfers, yeah I knew him." I realize how rude that must have sounded and glance back at Amelie; but she just smiles at me. "He was a good guy and he didn't deserve that." I shrug sort of half-heartedly. "But I guess that's just Dauntless competitiveness for you, right?"

"No, that's fucking crazy." She gives me a look of absolute horror. "My initiation class had some competition but no one got stabbed, jesus christ, what is with you kids?"

I chuckle but it comes out flat and bitter. "Good question." I'm quiet for a minute and then say. "His girlfriend was a really good friend of mine...I, uh, she's at the bottom and going to get cut I think."

"At least they'll be together." She shakes her head. "Damn shame what's happened with initiation. You just know they're not going to give him time to recover 'cause the new management's a piece of shit."

"You mean Four, right?" I snicker.

"What? No. I meant Eric; Four and I are pretty good friends."

I raise my eyebrows as my cheeks flush. "Oh...sorry about that. That's awkward."

"What's your problem with Four?" She doesn't say it aggressively, just curiously.

"He's kind of a dick to me. Me and everyone else for no reason other than he actually has to do his job."

She takes a long drink of her soda then says, "I know that he can come off sort of...rude, I was pretty wary of him when we first met too. But he's a good guy, you know?"

I shrug. "No, I don't."

"Well alright then. I'm sorry about your friend, and uh...and that you're not having a good time in initiation. It does get better, I promise."

I nod. It's hard to believe right now, but I want to. I turn my gaze back to Amelie, who is just watching me.

"Is there something else you want to ask?" I say.

She hums. "I haven't decided. I'm sure you know I know your brother."

I nod. "You're friends, yeah."

"Well I wouldn't go that far." She says. "As you can imagine, he's not terribly keen on Dauntless in general…that must make things kind of difficult for you."

"It doesn't." I think of what Will said last night, and it's the only other thing I can think to say. "I don't have to care what he or the rest of my family thinks of me anymore."

She gives me a strange look, amused and confused at the same time. "So you don't."

I drum my fingertips softly on the cold aluminum of the can. I'd ask how where she got it from, but I wouldn't want to pry. It's nice to feel like I have a little piece of my old home, even if it's something completely superficial.

We sit in silence for a little while longer and I stare out the glass at the ever-changing scene out in the Pit. As I do, my eyes start to glaze over. Maybe it's just everything that's happened, but I'm so tired. I blink quickly and sit up a little straighter, I have other things to attend to that don't involve sitting on a wood floor across from a near stranger trying to have conversation that's something more than sad. I rub my eyes and then stand up, still holding the cold and empty can in my hand.

"I should get going," I say. "Thank you for inviting me in."

"You're welcome anytime, Mimi." She smiles. "Listen, just…try and get plenty of sleep. Initiation is hard, I know it is, but if you're anything like the rest of your family then I think you can handle it."

_That's the problem _, I respond in my head, _I'm hardly anything like them _.

I nod and then walk out, tossing the can in the trash on my way. I don't know where to go; my friends could be anywhere, and I still don't know where Pandora's living. Does Dauntless have some sort of directory or something? Probably not.

Even if I could find Pandora, what would I say? 'Hi, remember me? I know it's been nine years but can I hang out and catch you up on all the poorly thought through decisions I've made in the past month or so?'. Yeah, I think not.

It's not that I believe that coming to Dauntless was a mistake, I want to be here so badly; I want to be what they are. I just meant what I said, I didn't think this through in the slightest. I think back to the Choosing Ceremony, didn't Jeanine tell Tris, her brother, and I to not choose on a whim or something but because we knew ourselves? Well I guess I failed that miserably. I very literally jumped into Dauntless with no idea what I was getting myself into and I'm really paying for that now. I don't know how I've managed to come so far after all but tripping and falling into the faction. How is it that I'm here and Myra's gone? That I've come so far – holy shit, I'm number eight now – and that Edward's factionless? It's not like I'm actively trying to step on them, really I've just been trying to keep my head above water. I have always considered them both to be better than me, more Dauntless than me, they belong here more than I ever could.

So what the hell am I still doing here?

I'm lucky I guess; I've always been very, very lucky. I grew up incredibly privileged, with a fantastic family, incredible talents, and opportunities. And then I threw that all away because I still wasn't happy and I'm still getting lucky. I'm still managing to stay ahead when I don't deserve to; I'm outpacing people who I shouldn't be able to compare to. This isn't where I belong, this isn't where I was even prepared to belong; I grew up thinking that Erudite was where I was always going to be, that I was precisely where I needed to be and if I just tried hard enough than I would eventually figure out how to fill in all the blanks.

Except that I didn't; those answers never came to me and now I'm not even sure if they can. I don't really know what being Divergent entails, what it says about me – and a part of me is scared to find out – but I'm almost positive that I can chalk at least some of my situation up to that. I feel like I'm fumbling around in the dark, like I'm colorblind in a world completely reliant on color.

But more than anything I just feel stupid. If I'm doing so well than I must be doing something right, and people seem to think that whatever it is I'm doing it's on purpose and I really wish they would clue me in on what that is because I certainly don't have a clue. I just want to be happy and do right by my family's legacy; I may have been wrong about there not being any Malachites in Dauntless, but that doesn't mean I won't be the first to do something truly important, to involve myself in the way this city runs just as my parents and all my siblings have.

In the end I just wind up wandering back to the dorms eventually. When I walk in it's still empty save for Myra, who is gathering hers and Edward's things into two black duffel bags. The red rings around her eyes give away that she's been crying and she doesn't look up until I but my hands on her shoulders. She jumps but relaxes again upon realizing who I am.

"Hi, Mimi."

I manage a smile. "Hi, Myra. How're you holding up."

She drops down onto the bed next to the bags and I sit down beside her, putting my arm around her shoulders. She hesitantly leans in to rest her head on my shoulder.

"It's not me you should worry about."

"I know. But I also know that you were right next to him when it happened, I can't imagine that's an easy image to get out of your head."

"I just don't want to think about it." Her voice breaks on the last word. "Right now I really think that's the least of our worries."

"Myra," I murmur, squeezing her tighter. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," she chokes out. "It had to be someone."

_It shouldn't have been you _, I think but can't bring myself to say.

She pulls her knees up to her chest and I can feel the tears dripping from her eyes onto my shoulder.

There's nothing that I can do to comfort her, not when her life is basically over. She doesn't get a second chance, she doesn't get to choose again. She's just another statistic now, one of the hundreds - if not thousands - that makeup Dauntless' fifty percent washout rate. But even with them gone, and I know I shouldn't think this, it might not be enough to spare Tris and Al. At least they have a chance, a prayer at scraping by somehow. Myra doesn't have that, she's just out and even if she weren't ranked last I know that she loves Edward too much to abandon him - newly blinded - to die poor and alone.

"I'm really sorry."

"It doesn't matter." She lifts her head and wipes her tears on the sleeve of her jacket. "I was going to get cut anyways, right?"

"Don't say that-" I start but she interrupts.

"You know that it's true. You don't have to pretend for my sake; I know it too."

"Yeah...I know."

We're quiet as she stands and finishes packing up hers and Edward's things. It's all they'll have to live with after today until they can find jobs solid enough that they can purchase new things. I've always been shielded from the true horrors of factionless life within the walls of my glass castle, my home in Erudite with my wealthy family and great privilege. But I'm not stupid; I know that it's bad, I hold no illusions that all the service workers in our city are managing to eke out a posh - or even comfortable - existence despite their life outside the factions. I know that no one truly survives for long, that it's not a matter of if you die miserable and destitute but when.

She zips up the bags and sighs to herself, staring down at them with abject misery.

"May I walk you to the door?" I say softly.

She nods and I hoist Edward's bag over my shoulder. Were I not forbidden from leaving the compound I'd walk back with her to the hospital as well, but I am.

We walk in silence to the front doors where the ceiling his so high I can't see it. Two guards stand by the door and they nod at Myra as she approaches. I wrap her in a tight hug and wish to never let go. She's trembling in my arms and I know that once she leaves through that door I'll never see her again. I blink away my tears because I don't want to upset her more; she doesn't need my grief alongside hers.

"I'll miss you," I say.

"You too. I - I…" she trails off and presses her face into the crook of my neck.

After what feels like not enough time, we let go of each other and I give her Edward's bag. As she walks out the door she looks back at me and smiles, I return it however feebly and stand in that spot until the door closes completely and the foyer is dim again.

I wrap my arms around myself and walk away, turning sharply down a hallway I've never seen before. I sit down when either end is a fair distance away and curl into a ball, covering my mouth with my hand to muffle my sobbing.


	20. Chapter 20: The Nightmare Scenario

Al and Tris made it through. Eight Dauntless-born got cut and twelve more transfers were cut, but I didn't know them and even though I feel bad about it, I'm glad that it was them rather than Tris and/or Al. I miss Myra and Edward a lot; I spent the weekend off we were given basically moping. It was hard to be happy knowing that they were gone and I couldn't stop thinking about what might be going on with them now; I still can't. The tension in the dorm room made it worse, everyone's on edge even more than we were. Tris thinks Peter did it and I'm inclined to think she's right, he's the only one that stood to really gain something. But I haven't been able to look at him the same; he's always been unnecessarily cruel but this is ridiculous. It's one thing to remorselessly beat someone into unconsciousness, it's entirely another to stab them and ruin their life, then go on acting like nothing's wrong but that's exactly what he's doing. I know that I've been staring, I've been trying not to, but my eyes continue to drift back to him and I'm so far beyond revolted it's not even funny.

Maybe I shouldn't be so upset, maybe I don't have a right to be. Myra and Edward were my friends but their departure only helped me, saved my other friends, put me in eighth place. I am so close to number one I can almost taste it. But from what I've seen of the top seven's fighting prowess, the gap between points must be oceans wide.

'_ You know, there are those that would say that second place is just first loser _,' I hear Eric say in my head and I can't imagine what he must think of eighth. I am not inclined to listen to him or his opinions beyond what I absolutely have to put up with. But the part of me that truly is aggressive and competitive bristles at the fact that I'm _only _in the top ten. Not that it's an unfamiliar feeling by any means, I've spent my entire life until now in the shadows of everyone I knew. There has always been one or several more people better than me and honestly I had thought that I'd accepted this a long time ago, that I was far past the point of caring who I was and wasn't better than. I guess not though, I guess that I really am no better than any of my ex-Erudite peers in that way.

I'm almost glad to be back in training because that's something to think about besides what happened and because stage two presents me with a chance to solve this little problem of mine. This morning we worked out in the training room and then Four led us down an unfamiliar hallway where we wait now. I have no idea what part of the compound we're in but it's different than everywhere else. The floor is linoleum, the walls are pristine white, and fluorescent lights in the ceiling only make the place that much harsher. Part of me is vaguely reminded of Erudite, but this isn't as good and what I wouldn't give to get some natural light in here.

The Dauntless-born are here with us now and to expedite the process of whatever we're doing, Four and their trainer - I think her name was Laura or something - are now working together.

Despite the fact that we're basically the same now, the Dauntless-born and transfers still separate from each other out of habit. Even Lynn, Marlene, and Uriah stick to their side of the room and us transfers stick to ours. There's a lot more Dauntless-born than transfers, at least ten times as many. I suppose it's easier to choose to stay when you know what you're getting yourself into.

"So," Lynn says after a long, long silence, "which one of you is ranked first?"  
"That would be me," says Peter with a truly appalling amount of smugness given what he may or may not have done to get there.

"Bet I could take you," she says like it's an absolute fact as she fidgets with the ring in her eyebrow.

Marlene gives an affectionate giggle as she rolls her eyes.

"I'm second," she continues, "But I bet any one of us could take you, Transfer."

I snicker. Her talk isn't unfamiliar to me, people postured the same way in Erudite just about different subjects.

Peter looks at her with a dark gleam in his eye that makes my skin crawl. "I wouldn't be so sure about that. Which one of you is first?"

"Uriah," she says. "And I'm very sure; do you have any idea how long we've spent preparing for this?"

"Preparation isn't everything." He grins. "We had a guy who trained for years and he still got cut."

"He got stabbed," I interject. "And they refused to give him time off to recover."

"Well now he has all the time off he needs." Peter's laugh is smug and awful, and I feel sick to my stomach as Edward's scream echoes again in my head.

Before I can retort, Four opens his door and calls Lynn back.

Peter takes the interruption as an opportunity to change the subject. He turns to Uriah still wearing that awful, awful grin and says, "So you're first."

"Yeah," Uriah says apathetically. "And?"

"_ And _don't you think it's a little unfair that you've all spent your entire lives training for this and we only get a few weeks?"

"Not really. Stage one was about skill, sure, but no one can prepare for stage two," he says. "At least, so I'm told."

"And wouldn't you have the same advantage had you spared us all from having to suffer through your presence and stayed in Candor," I say.

His smile melts and he rolls his eyes, opens his mouth to respond, but before he can Lori or whatever sticks her head out the door and calls him back. He glares at me as he passes. I'm still not afraid of Peter, I refuse to be truly afraid of him; but I'm more wary now than when we first met. After everything I've seen him do, can plausibly chalk up to him doing, I've realized that he's more than just a loud-mouthed nuisance with a penchant for picking on anyone he perceives as lesser, which is pretty much everyone. He's legitimately dangerous and he'll do whatever - hurt whoever - to get ahead.

We wait for our names to be called and eventually mine is, before my other friends' actually. Unfortunately, it's four that calls me back.

He sticks his head out the door, glances around, and says, "Is Tatiana Luxen out...oh." He sighs. "Ice Queen then."

Oh, nice to see that that carried over into stage two. Not. I glare at him as I walk through the door and he rolls his eyes in response.

I wasn't quite sure what to expect behind the door, but it wasn't a tiny room with nothing but a reclined chair and a computer terminal that has rolling chair pushed into it.

"Sit down," he says.

"What are am I doing?"

"You'll see."

I pause before sitting down. "Tell me."

"Try not to be difficult for once in your life and sit down," he says.

I fold my arms and sit down. "Now will you tell me?"

He sighs, making sort of a 'whatever' gesture. "Ever heard the phrase 'face your fears', well we're - or rather you're - going to be doing that literally. I'll inject you with a serum that will cause a hallucination and it'll end when you find a way to fight back or calm down enough. The results will be recorded on the computer."

"Alright. Was it really so hard to tell me that?"

He glares at me and then rolls his eyes. He tilts my head to the side and moves my hair out of the way to expose my neck. "If you keep being annoying I might miss the vein, that would be really unfortunate for you."

I fight the urge to retort only because I think that after what he did to Tris he may actually miss on purpose.

I grimace as he inserts the needle. The idea of having some mystery substance injected into my bloodstream grates on me, but though I trust Four about as far as I could throw him I do trust the scientists over at Erudite who likely developed this.

The world starts to grow blurry around me and I feel tired. I feel myself start to slouch in the chair and eventually I give into the feeling of exhaustion and close my eyes.

When I open them again I am alone, sitting on the edge of a metal railing. Beneath me is a deep, dark pit that I can't see the bottom of. I swallow the lump in my throat and try to move off of the railing onto a more solid structure but it creaks like it's going to fall apart and I think better of it. I grip the railing so hard that my knuckles turn white and my arms are trembling. I've never been afraid of heights before, at least not that I can remember. But now all I can think of is Christina hanging on by the tips of her fingers, Rita's friend screaming as she missed the jump. I am filled with a sickening sense of dread. I am afraid to move, I am afraid to even loosen my grip. My teeth start chattering and every tiny movement makes me feel like I'm going to fall; I'm afraid to look around, all I can do is keep my eyes trained on the dark expanse beneath me. It looks like it's getting closer and farther away the longer I stare at it and I begin to feel nauseous. I shift my weight slightly and the whole structure shudders violently; I gasp and squeeze the railing as tight as possible, shutting my eyes. I can feel myself falling backwards, I swear I can; but when I open my eyes nothing's happened. I'm still exactly where I started.

The railing is hardly more than three fingers wide and covered in rust. It digs into my hands and the backs of my thighs painfully but I'm certainly not about to move again.

Logically, I know that none of this is real and I just have to find a way to solve the problem. I am good at problem solving, it's one of the few things we're taught in Erudite that really can be applied everywhere. This should be no trouble for me. But every time I think about moving I also remember how easy it is to slip and die. It's not real, and I know that, but it feels real and I don't like the idea of dying even if it's just in a sim.

I'm not sure how long I spend frozen like that, it feels like hours. Wherever I am, it's dead silent, the sound of my own breathing horrendously loud in my ears instead.

_Just move, Mimette _, I think to myself. _This is nothing, it isn't real _.

But it feels very real; the rusted metal that's become uncomfortably warm under my touch, the stale air, the emptiness beneath me. I dare to look up and all I see is bright white light, so blinding that I have to look away after a second.

I keep thinking that I feel myself rocking back and forth, about to fall in either direction, but nothing happens.

To my right and left are solid rock holding up this beam; obviously making my way to either side would put me on solid ground and end this horrible, horrible test. But as I slowly shift to the right the metal groans in protest and I freeze, every inch of me trembling violently. My head begins to pound and I feel sick; I'm not sure how much longer I can take this. The room begins to feel oppressively hot and it becomes difficult to breathe. As I shift again I'm not sure which is shaking more, me or the beam. Suddenly one side slides, scraping horribly against the rock and the whole structure lists. I scream as I'm thrown to one side, clinging to the rail with my hands and legs as my back slams hard into the rock. My ears ring and my vison blurs, the nausea growing stronger. I can feel the blood rushing to my fingers; part of me is tempted to press my forehead to the metal and allow the cold to relieve my headache. But this metal isn't cold, in fact as time drags on both the rail and the room seem to be growing hotter. The urge to vomit washes over me and against my better judgement I lurch forward, dry-heaving into the abyss.

I've got to get out of here, this is being scored too. I can't imagine how ridiculous I must look, stuck on this railing like a cat in a tree. I can do better than this, I'm the second best initiate and I can only imagine how easy this must have been for Peter, the guy doesn't exactly seem to process emotions like any normal person should.

I am no miserable coward, I swear I'm not. Fear has never been something I've let control me, that would be humiliating. And this is no exception, in fact I think this is the most important time I possibly could force my emotions aside and focus.

I look around; I can't scale the sheer wall and there's no way in hell I can cross all the way to the other side without the whole structure collapsing.

Biting my lip I look down into the darkness again, I guess there is one other way I could get out of this.  
Breathing heavily, I lean further out over the darkness, getting the same dizzying affect that I did the first time I looked down. Maybe the structure's shaking and maybe it's me; either way, I can almost feel myself already falling. I take a deep breath, the hot air doing nothing to calm me, and force my sweating palms to let go.

Gravity yanks me forward and I regret my decision immediately, but when I grab at the rail there's nothing there. My legs aren't enough to keep me on and I plunge into the abyss.

When I close my eyes nothing about my surroundings changes.

I sit bolt upright in the chair in a cold sweat, my heart beating wildly. The room is too hot, my throat tightens and the room lurches back and forth. Tears begin to gather in my eyes and a blush rises to my cheeks; it's embarrassing enough to be seen crying at all, the last thing I need is for _Four _to see me cry. I can see him watching me out of the corner of my eye. I blink away the tears and cut my eyes at him.

"Was that good? Am I done?" It's easier to snap than to cry, at least that's something we're both used to.

"I…" He pulls a face. "What did you just do there?"

"What do you mean what did I do? I completed the simulation, didn't I?"

The bite in my tone obviously annoys him, but he ignores it for now. "What? Uh, yeah but...what you did…that's not how your supposed to do it."

I huff. "Would it kill you not to be cryptic for once? I have no idea what you're trying to say to me."

"That's because you're not listening," he mutters and then grumbles incomprehensibly. He scrubs his hands over his face and then looks at me again. "You're not just supposed to be able do whatever you just did; that's not how the sims are supposed to work."

"Do I have to go again?" That's really the last thing I want to do, but I figure I should at least ask.

He gives me a weird look and then glances at something in the corner behind me. "No. Look, just go back to the dorms. You're done for the day."

I frown, not less confused in any way. "Is there something I should know?"

He mutters something that I don't hear and then waves me off. Deciding that I won't get a straight answer out of him, I leave.

Even after walking out I still feel jittery and like I'm going to be sick. I pass Tris, Christina, and Uriah still waiting. The nice thing to do would be to wait with them, but I don't feel good and all I want is to go lay down.

When I walk back into the dorm room Molly and Peter are sitting on his bunk giggling like children over something, which makes me more than a little uneasy. I didn't really think that either of them were even capable of laughing like that, in a way that almost sounds innocent, I imagine that they're laughing over something terrible. With Edward and Myra gone, and all the others still waiting for their turn in the fear sim, Will is the only other person in the room. He smiles when I walk in and stands up to meet me halfway across the room.

"How'd it go?" he asks.

"Not great. Four is still weird, but what else is new?" Both of those are understatements, but I don't especially feel like getting into any of that. I feel bad enough as it is. "How'd yours go?"

He shudders. "Not great." He flashes half a smile like he knows what I meant when I said it.

We walk in sync back to the end of the room that we share and sit down on his bed. He runs his hands through his hair and it makes the front stick up. I press my back against the cold stone wall and close my eyes. After a minute my hair pressing against my back becomes unbearably hot as well and I have to unbraid it to put it up into a bun.

"Mimi, are you doing okay?" Will frowns in concern.

I nod. "Just fine. It's just really hot in here."

"It's really not, but ok." Molly and Peter start laughing again and he gives me a deadpan look. "They've been like that since training, it's fucking weird."

"I didn't even think they were capable of laughing like that."

"Me neither. Think they're up to something?"

He shrugs. "I don't really care right now if they are. I kinda just want to close my eyes and never have to open them again."

"That bad, huh?"

He grimaced. "Worse." He shudders. "Buried alive. You?"

"Heights. I didn't even know I was afraid of that until, well...you know…"

He nods. We all remember the girl who fell off the roof; but no one else seems as disturbed by it as I am.

"Ay, me too. I'm sure that will make me wanna die sometime in the near future."

We share a weak smile and I tilt my head back against the wall and close my eyes again.

There's a part of me that wants to believe this doesn't matter. It's just another part of initiation, no more or less grueling than stage one. That this is nothing beyond a set of points I have to score to earn my spot here. That's what I'd like to think. But the truth is that this does matter to me; brutal as stage one was, I could never say that it was anything like that simulation. But it never made me feel violently sick to my stomach or left me on the verge of tears. That one time I lost to Peter aside, I never cried because of a fight.

I had chosen actively not to believe in the rumors that Dauntless was brutal and cruel said it was. My family had always had a terrible tendency of being disapproving of every faction that wasn't Erudite, even Amity where a quarter of our family lives. But they'd always held a special kind of contempt for the 'Dauntless Trash' as they referred to them; which was why ever mentioning Kira in any capacity was completely out of the question. Even Eliza's obvious affection toward her at the Choosing Ceremony was surely scrutinized. After all, she's still a Dauntless transfer and therefore not Erudite. Even before I met Kira, I didn't exactly dislike the Dauntless. Sure, they were loud, crass, and they took a bit of getting used to when I had to interact with them on the regular; but I would hardly say that I disliked them. Even now, I still don't dislike them. I still don't really regret the fact that I'm here; I wonder what might have been in Erudite plenty, but I think that's everyone. I keep trying to remind myself that this is home now, that these are my people, but honestly it is taking some getting used to. This is far from what I'd ever imagined, in good and bad ways. And I want to just keep telling myself that that's okay, that the things that have happened so far aren't the worst that could happen. I've been very fortunate, especially given how much I push my luck with everyone who I even remotely dislike. I know that in time it will fade, I'll begin to forget the things that have happened in the last five weeks. I'll make new memories and in time this really won't matter.

I think back to the day of the Choosing Ceremony and after, when the girl missed the jump. I replay it over and over again, and I can't tell what really happened and the details I've just filled in for myself; her scream, the crunch of her body on the pavement. What I know for sure is the sight of the blood pooling around her, her limbs bent at odd angles and how far the blood splattered. Then the nausea that overtook me; I didn't know her, I didn't feel anything for her. A brief moment of pity for her and the other girl, Rita, but I had already turned away by the time I began to feel that.

Then I jumped off a roof.

I still can't believe I did that and I'm not about to do it again anytime soon, but I remember it being over in less than a few seconds. The net knocked the wind out of me and I remember laying there, breathing heavily, staring up at the sky. I jumped second, following the Abnegation girl who I hadn't caught more than a glimpse of until dinner.

_They say second place is just first loser _, I hear Eric's voice in my head and it makes me frown.

I'm not a competitive person, not like that at least. And I love Tris to pieces, I wouldn't compete with her like that even if I was that competitive because she's my friend, that was always how Eliza, Casey, and I saw it. There was no point whatsoever in letting any kind of competition get in the way of our friendship.

I like to think that there's nothing Dauntless can _really _throw at me that would ever make me regret transferring. I don't care about Four, I don't care about Peter, I don't even really care all that much about Eric. I'm here because I want to be here and no one, no matter how horrid they are, is going to make me leave. Probably short of death, nothing's going to stop me from fighting to be here. Not fear in particular, isn't that why I'm Dauntless? Because I'm brave and maybe not fearless, but I'm not about to give in just because I'm a little rattled. If hundreds of thousands of others before me can handle fear and a little bout of nausea, why can't I?

It barely feels like a moment's passed until the sound of Peter talking catches my attention. Will isn't next to me anymore but rather standing in the center of the room, a small crowd even including some of the Dauntless-born though none of them my friends has begun to form.

"I think this is something you'll all just be dying to hear." He grins and begins to read from his tablet. "Historically, there have always been fluctuations in faction populations from generation to generation. As the values of our descendants shifts with the changing times, each faction evolves to accommodate. Every Choosing Ceremony marks another batch of young, bright minds entering all five factions, unique from all their elders and ancestors. Eager to break with tradition and bring about a change, however small. However, anyone who's ever opened a history textbook will notice that in the last two and a half centuries Abnegation has stagnated. Their insistence on clinging to antiquity, even if it means infringing on the rights and authority of the other four factions, hinders our advancement as a city and more importantly, endangers the faction system that they claim to uphold. Our city is always growing and changing and it is imperative that its leadership reflect that. Even more concerning, their dropping population makes it that much harder for them to lead us properly. Every year Abnegation draws in less transfers and loses more of their children to other factions. This year, most notably, we saw the transfers of the faction representative's two children, and the council liaisons son. If they, Caleb Prior, Beatrice Prior, and Robert Black, cannot even find it within themselves to devote their lives to the faction they were raised in, then why should we?" The door opens behind us and I glance back. Tris walks in and I'm tempted to just tell her to leave. Upsetting as the first article was to her, if her fear landscape was half as bad as mine then this is really the last thing she needs.

"This mass exodus of Abnegation's children, however, cannot be written off as merely population fluctuation or coincidence. The transfers of these three calls into question the soundness of Abnegation's teachings and values as they come after the transfer of Marcus Eaton's daughter, Angela, two years ago. If there were not something very deeply wrong with the faction, then what might compel them to leave? Andrew Prior's children in particular were quite the shock, both of them having departed for the two factions that Abnegation spurns most often: Dauntless and Erudite. It seems that they find no aspect of the life their birth faction had set out for them to be admirable, and have sought out the most extreme alternative. And can we blame them? These children have grown up living in the past, hardly able to enjoy all the luxuries that modern life has to offer. Perhaps this is not all they have suffered; Molly Atwood, a fellow Dauntless transfer, suggests a disturbed and abusive upbringing might be to blame. 'I heard her talking in her sleep once,' Molly says. 'She was telling her father to stop doing something. I don't know what it was, but it gave her nightmares." Molly grins at Tris, who glowers back at her.

"What?!" She exclaims, and then again. "What?!"

Peter stops reading and looks at her with a wide, almost maniacal grin.

"Give me that." Tris storms through the crowd and swipes at the paper he holds. He holds it high above her head

"Aw, but I'm not done reading." He laughs and looks down at the paper again. "However, perhaps the answer lies not in a morally bereft man, but in the corrupted ideals of an entire faction. Perhaps the answer is that we have entrusted our city to a group of proselytizing tyrants who do not know how to lead us to greater prosperity."

Tris scowls and stomps hard enough on his toes to make them pop. He swears loudly and curls in on himself on instinct. She snatches the paper from his hand but it rips at the bottom, shredding the bottom paragraph. Then Tris turns on Molly and dives at her. But Will grabs her by the waist before she can make contact.

"Alright," he says. "Let's not do that."

"That's my father!" she screams, though it's unclear if she's yelling at Will or Molly. "That's my father, you coward!"

"Tris!" Will lifts her off the ground and half carries her out of the room.

She drops the paper, but Will doesn't stop to allow her to pick it up. He slams the door behind them and a tense silence descends on the room.

I pick up the paper before Peter can reach it.

"What the fuck is your problem?!" I snap, turning on him but holding the paper behind my back.

He snickers. "Aw, what do you mean?" He tries at an innocent look and I think if I rolled my eyes any harder then they'd roll right out of my head. "You did tell me to find better material."

"Peter, would you just give it a rest for once in your life?" Christina says, she and Al stand next to me. Al loudly cracks his knuckles and stares him down; even though he's more gentle giant than anything else, that doesn't make his appearance any less threatening.

"That supposed to scare me?" He snorts. "I'm the best fighter here."

"That's because you stabbed the only guy who was better than you." I say before really considering how that might sound.

"Oh yeah?" He raises his eyebrows. "Prove it, Ice Queen."

But I can't, and he knows that. It's just a theory, a plausible one but a theory nonetheless.

He smirks. "I thought so."

I decide to walk away rather than punch him. He's right either way I guess.

Out in the hallway, it seems that Will's managed to calm down Tris, though she still seems pretty furious I don't think that she's going to punch anyone. For now.

"It's my turn to get tattooed," Christina says. "You guys wanna come with me?"

Tris shrugs sort of apathetically and off me go. She shuffles along behind them and I walk beside her.

"You okay?" I say quietly and she gives me a deadpan look. "Right, stupid question." I hold the torn and crumpled paper out to her. "I was able to grab this though."

She takes it from me and then rips it in half, then again, and again, and again.

"Better?"

She shrugs. "Something like that."

I catch a glimpse of the writer's name, E. Silver, which I know for a fact is a pseudonym. The head of the journalism department, Lucy Sharp, is not quite infamous for smearing peoples' names but almost. Of course, that would reflect badly on her; so she writes under the name E. Silver. That everyone's fine with; everyone loves a good rumor, and Lucy is more than happy to oblige.

My parents and Jeanine have always liked her for some reason; not all of the department heads are close to our family, but she is. Which is odd, because usually they detest the upper crust's gossip just as much as I do, and it's Lucy's writing that starts half those rumors.

As we pass a trashcan in the Pit, she throws the pieces away and they float down like really inflammatory confetti.

Ahead of us, Al gives Christina a piggyback ride and Will speedwalks to keep up with them as they charge through the crowd that tries to give them something of a wide berth.

When we reach the tattoo parlor, Christina slides down off of Al's back and looks at the rest of us.

"Any of you care to join me in this grand tattoo adventure."

Will chuckles. "Not even a little bit."

I shrug. "I think I've made enough drastic changes for the time being."

"Mimi," she whines, taking my hands. "Come on. You're Dauntless, aren't you?"  
"I am. That doesn't mean I have to attack my skin with needles."

"Mimi." She squeezes my hands.

"I'll join you, Chris," Tris says and Christina beams.

"See, Tris is fun."

I roll my eyes. "That's not going to convince me."

"I'll be your best friend," she tries again as she thumbs through one of the design books.

"You're already my best friend."

"Augh!" Will exclaims, dramatically putting his hand over his heart. "I thought I was your best friend!"

"I'm still on the fence about whether I like you at all in general, let alone you being my best friend."

He pouts at me and grabs my arm. "Mimi."

"Don't 'Mimi' me...wow that's a lot of the same syllable."

The others laugh. Tris and Christina pick their designs and sit down in the chairs next to each other.

"You sure, Mimi?" Christina calls.

I'm about to say no, but out of the corner of my eye I spot a design on the wall on glass that I hadn't noticed before. I point it out to one of the artists and Christina beams at me.

Later, we stroll through the pit with no particular direction, Al with Christina on his back again. All three of us girls sporting new tattoos and all of us with a few new clothes. I got a few more clothes that will be good in the cold winter weather when I eventually am allowed to leave the compound. We even talked Tris into buying a shirt that shows her shoulders and collarbones; very scandalous. After that Christina tried her hand at doing someone else's makeup, doing Tris' eyes this time without complaint. I let my hair hand long and loose and I fidget absentmindedly with one of my streaks, still kind of getting used to the look. I expected Four to make some comment on it, but surprisingly enough he didn't. It's not the homage to my birth faction that it looks like, it's just a nice color. The diamond on my wrist though, that's a nod to Erudite. I miss it, I can't help it I guess. Visiting Day made it better and worse; it was great to see them all again, but I miss Gwendolyn, Victoria, and Jeanine more than before and honestly I'm kind of hurt that they didn't show up. I know that Gwendolyn and Victoria have problems with Dauntless, but I still wish that I could see them.

"I still can't believe you got another tattoo," Will says to Tris.

She pulls a face. "Why? Because I'm a Stiff?"

He shakes his head. "No, you're just...sensible. I mean I thought Mimi was too but her favorite pastime is proving me wrong so…"

I shrug noncommittally. I like to think of myself as sensible; sort of anyways. I mean, clearly not like Will is imagining - still kind of stuck to Erudite ways of thinking that look down on Dauntless by default. But isn't that what I'm trying to prove, that I'm not Erudite? I mean, just because it will never technically be true doesn't mean that I can't try, right?

"So," he continues after a second, "fears."

"Fears," Christina repeats. "Tris?"

"Too many crows."

"Crows?" I say.

"Crows," she repeats.

"Can I ask why?"

She starts a bunch of different sentences, but can't seem to find the words and instead just shrugs.

"Too much acid," Al shudders.

"Buried alive," Wills says. "Like, coffin and only it was clear and terrible."

"Christina?" Tris asks after a moment of silence between us.

She shrugs half-heartedly. "I don't wanna talk about it really. Mimi?"  
"Heights. I didn't even know I was afraid of heights until then."

"Come on." Will nudges her lightly with his elbow. "Everyone else went, you've gotta tell us yours."

"And you were the one to bring it up," Al adds.

She swallows hard and looks away. I've never seen Christina shy away from telling us anything before. Usually it's her pushing us to tell her stuff.

"It's…stupid." She shoves her hands into the pockets of her jacket. "Really."

"So then why don't you want to tell us?" Will presses.

"Because I just don't, okay? It's just uncomfortable and not really a conversation I want to have."

"Chris, Tris is afraid of crows apparently," I say. "I promise, whatever it is it can't possibly be that bad."

"I am not afraid of crows." Tris frowns, seeming insulted.

"Okay," I say dismissively.

Christina huffs. "Can we just…drop it?"

Will shrugs. "I mean, sure. I guess. You know, it's really fascinating how the whole thing works. I mean the whole thing is basically a struggle between your thalamus, which is producing the fear, and your frontal lobe, which makes decisions. But the simulation is all in your head, so even though you feel like someone is doing it to you, it's just you, doing it to yourself and that's not even getting into the hardware and software that allows the observer to see inside your head. I mean like…" He trails off and smiles sheepishly. "Sorry, I must sound like a total Erudite. Force of habit."

"No, it's interesting," Tris says.

"Yeah." I nod. "The micro-transmitters in the serum, same ones they use for the Aptitude Test, are super cool all on their own and took like a decade to actually get working. Not to say that it doesn't still break down and have to be redesigned like every other year." I let out a breathy laugh. "I know so much about the development of this stuff, you have no idea."

"Yeah, my sister's a chemist. She wrote her thesis on the development and functionality of the fear simulation serum and the Aptitude Test one."

I nod. "Jeanine may not have loved to talk about the Aptitude Test as it actually works, but she's told me so much about the development and chemistry behind it. Like, I don't know jack shit about advanced chemistry as a subject, but I know that like I know the alphabet."

We would have continued probably, but Al almost drops Christina at that moment and she shrieks. Her hands clawing to find purchase and wind up digging into his neck. Al gags as he tightens his grip on her legs. Will puts his hand on her back to keep her upright while they readjust.

"You good?" Will asks, trying to stifle his laughter.

Tris and I openly snicker to each other and I overhear Al mutter to Tris as we keep walking, "I might have done that on purpose to ask them to stop talking."

"Al!" she whisper-exclaims back as she laughs.

"What's going on?" Will walks ahead to fall in step with them.

"Al apparently doesn't care for you two nerd-ing out about things we're not even supposed to talk about," Christina says. "Can't say I blame him."

"Snitch," Al says with a laugh.

"Rude." Will pulls a face, but has a hard time not laughing.

"I will drop you, you know." He loosens his grip on her legs to accentuate his point but Christina's arms are wrapped firmly around his neck this time.

I'm too busy laughing to notice that Al's stopped in front of me and I smack into Christina's back.

"Instructor alert," Al says.

Four stands on an outcropping over the Chasm, leaning against the railing. A few people surround him, loudly laughing and talking in the way I've come to expect of the Dauntless. Among them, I recognize Amelie by her hair and tattoos but she doesn't notice me.

"Yikes," Will says under his breath.

"Yikes indeed." I wedge myself between him and Al so that all five of us can stand together.

"At least it's not Eric," Tris says. "He'd probably make us play chicken or something."

"Point taken, but Four's plenty scary," Will reminds her. "Remember when he put a gun to Peter's head?"

Christina snickers. "I'm pretty sure he almost wet himself."

"Okay, but Peter had it coming," Tris counters.

"Don't get me wrong," I say, "I hate Peter as much as anyone else, but Four did kind of overreact."

We all know what Peter is capable of, and I'm very sure that he isn't exactly the prime example of an underserving target. He's a lot more than just a jerk, whether we can prove it or not we know that he's dangerous. But it doesn't change the fact that Four is supposed to be the adult in the situation and Dauntless or no, I don't think putting a gun to your student's head – however disrespectful they may be – is really an appropriate reaction.

Fucking sue me.

"Yeah I'm with Mimi on this one," Christina agrees. "He absolutely cannot take a joke in any capacity."

I think back to the first day when she mocked Four's name and he got all up in her face about it. He's never been nice by any stretch of the imagination, but really you never know what you're going to get with him. Sometimes he'll just get kind of pissy, and sometimes he'll openly threaten you.

"Tris!" Four calls and waves her over in his direction.

"Double yikes," Will mutters.

"What did you do this time?" Christina asks only half-jokingly as she slides off Al's back.

She rolls her eyes. "Nothing."

"Okay," I say sarcastically.

"Well," Christina nudges Tris forward, "go."

She stumbles in the first few steps but rights herself. She's close enough still that we can overhear his conversation with her. His friends go on without him, ignoring Tris like she never approached.

"You look different," he says. His words are slurred and he appears to be holding onto the railing for balance.

She laughs. "What are you doing?"

"Flirting with death." He smirks.

"Oh if only death would flirt back," I mutter.

"Oh my god, Mimi," Will says slowly, turning to face me.

Christina cackles and Tris glances back at us, Christina's laughter having caught her attention.

"Probably not a good idea," Four adds.

"Yeah, probably not."

Al begins to shift back, putting his arm out to tug the rest of us back with him.

"What are you doing?" Will asks through his giggles. "I wanna hear them."

"We should give them some space," he mutters back.

Christina, Will, and I share a look and then creep closer.

"Didn't know you had a tattoo," he says, his eyes flickering down to her collarbone.

Christina wheezes in laughter

"Crows," he mutters and Will audibly chokes before collapsing into giggles completely.

Tris glances back at us again with a frown. "Ravens actually."

"Well I'd invite you to hang out with us but you're not supposed to see me like this."

"What? Drunk?"

"Yeah...well, no. Real, I guess."

"Real," I repeat with no small amount of mocking in my tone and then laugh.

"Well, I'll pretend I didn't."

He leans down and whispers something that makes her blush, then more loudly says, "You should probably get back to your friends. I think they're waiting on you." He gives us a pointed look over her head that I think is meant to be somewhat intimidating, but we're too busy laughing for it to have much of an effect.

"Right." She laughs. "Do me a favor and stay away from the Chasm."

"Of course." He winks and our laughter grows louder.

"Wow," Will drawls as she returns.

She opens her mouth to say something, but Al scoops her up in his arms and she shrieks, throwing her arms around his neck on instinct.

"Come on," he says, "let's get to dinner."

She unwraps one of her arms to wave at Four as we walk away.

"What was that all about?" he says when we're out of an earshot.

"Nothing." She shakes her head. "He was just drunk. It was nothing. It was funny to see him that way though...that was why I was laughing."

"Oh sure." Will nods along sarcastically. "Couldn't possibly be because-" Tris swipes at him before he can finish.

Christina and I share a mad giggle and Tris rolls her eyes. Out of the corner of my eye I notice Al wears a slight frown.

"Whatever, you guys. I know what you're thinking and you're wrong."

"Oh-kay," I say sarcastically. Will, Christina, and I sharing a smirk.

Al sets Tris down when we reach the dining hall and the subject of our conversation shifts. We grab our food and sit down at our usual table. Out of habit, I glance in the direction of Edward and Myra's table. Or their old table rather, and there's a pang in my chest when I notice the new people there, Dauntless members just taking back what might be their usual table now that a few of the initiates are gone.

I wonder how they're doing, their first full day as factionless. Edward newly blind. I hope they're alright. I try not to think about all the ways that they probably aren't.

Later that night I'm halfway asleep, my eyes beginning to flutter closed but I'm snapped awake again by a loud gasp. Christina sits bolt upright in her bed, panting, one hand on her chest.

"Fuck," she whispers.

"Christina?" I sit up on my elbows.

She wipes her cheeks with the heel of her hands. "Mimi?" Her voice sounds weak and like she's out of breath.

"Yeah. Are you okay?"

"It's nothing," she mutters. "I just...had a bad dream." I see her silhouette curl in on itself, her forehead resting on her knees. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You don't sound fine?"

"I'm _fine _," she repeats more insistently and it sounds more like she's trying to convince herself than me.

I sit up more, realizing that I'm not going to be getting back to sleep any time soon.

"What are you doing up?" she changes the subject.

"Trying to get to sleep actually." It feels a little awkward whispering to each other halfway across the room. But Peter, Drew, and Al's snoring never breaks.

"Oh." She chuckles awkwardly. "Sorry, I'll let you sleep."

I shrug even though I know she can't see it. "It's whatever. I don't really think I want the fear sim stuff creeping into my dreams anyways…Is that what yours was about?"

She's quiet for a while but then very quietly says, "Yeah. I, uh, I still don't really want to talk about it though."

"That's fine."

"Hey, you wanna come sit over here. I feel like we shouldn't be whisper-shouting across the room."

I chuckle. "Sure."

It takes me a second to get my bearings once I stand up. This room is so dark and the stone is so uneven. But eventually I am able to get over to Christina's bunk and sit down on the edge of it. She sits on her knees with her back very straight as she fidgets with her nightshirt.

"So, heights," she says.

"Heights," I repeat. "I, um, I've never really had something affect me like that. I mean I've never been afraid of heights before in my life and the fact that I am now is just…I don't like it."

"I don't think anyone likes being afraid."

"Not what I meant. I…I don't know, it's hard to explain and now that I'm saying this out loud I'm realizing how stupid it sounds."

"It's not stupid." I can vaguely make out that she shakes her head. "But, um, I know that I brought it up but can we talk about something else. I just…don't want to think about that dream anymore."

"Sure…what though?"

She laughs. "I don't know. Ummmm, hey what about Maureen?"

"What about Maureen?"

"I mean she's your sister in law, that's nuts. I mean she's famous and all."

I shrug. "It's not nuts really, not like you think. I mean trust me, she's not quite as beloved in Erudite as she was in Candor."

"Are you kidding?"

"Not really, no. It matters more to people that she's married to a department head; figure skating's not our – their thing really, that's gymnastics."

What Marlene said about Erudite surfaces in my mind again, how there's a very particular way that people are expected to be. Now that she's pointed it out to me it seems obvious; I mean lots of the people in my parents' social circle never saw a problem in pointing out the ways that my siblings and I didn't quite fit in to my parents and to us. I think the word people used most often was '_ unconventional _'; which really doesn't sound like much when you compare it to other insults people use, but it's a clear understatement, the meaning of which is pretty much universally understood. We weren't quite right, not like our parents, not like we should be. There was a whole myriad of things they saw as wrong with us, some of it's almost universally agreed on and some of it most people brush off because it's just bigotry.

"She's won the championship for them five years in a row now," Christina says incredulously.

I shake my head. "Doesn't matter. I mean it does, but not like it matters in Candor."

They didn't quite like me because I wasn't like Eliza, because I didn't work so obsessively and wasn't quite so competitive; and because I just didn't really care for them or the conventions that I broke from.

"So what does matter there, scholastic decathlons?"

They didn't like Mark because he was artsy and also didn't have the competitive drive that he was expected to have. He's always been more interested in befriending people than competing against them and in Erudite – among the rich and powerful who mostly got to be where they are by being competitive – that was a weakness.

"You joke, but it's true. Those and gymnastics are basically the faction wide pastimes. What about Candor, figure skating matters but what else?"

They didn't like Minerva because she was the _wrong _kind of competitive, because she saw no point in being passive aggressive and manipulative. She preferred aggressive aggressive honestly, and still does.

When they left, people were sorry for my parents but they weren't surprised and I know that they felt some kind of smugness because they'd been right all along. Because Mark and Minerva weren't meant for Erudite and their unconventionality was caused by that. To me though, I never really saw those qualities of being the clues that they weren't Erudite; I didn't think that back then and I don't think that now. Playing to the stereotypes that make up the lens other factions see us with doesn't do any of us any good.

"Debate," she says. "Like, I know that's absolutely no surprise to anyone but it's really important. Our – Their professional debaters have just as big of a following as the figure skaters and then some. Also, uh, cooking; y'know how the Dauntless are really super into baked goods, well imagine that but with real food. They used to hold seasonal cooking competitions, my dad competed in a few and it was always super fun to watch." I can't see her smile, but I can hear it. The terror of her nightmare is beginning to fade as nostalgia fills her mind.

Melanie and Michael were less scrutinized, they played their parts a lot better. But Michael's transition and Melanie's sexuality drew comments from more people than anyone really anticipated. And for once, business didn't supersede family and more people - some friends and some just business partners - fell out of my family's good graces than I could believe. Others just became smart enough to keep their opinions to themselves. I happen to know that Eliza's parents are among that bunch.

"My little sister's on one of the mid-levels debate teams," Christina says. "I used to...I used to go and watch her competitions every other weekend and help her rehearse at home. She's good, Mimi, I wish you could have seen her."

"If she's half as fight-y as you are, I don't doubt it." She snorts and I can imagine her eyeroll.

They never liked me because I was too nice and not interested in bending over backwards to meet some arbitrary standard. They would tell me that I was far more charming than Minerva though, that I was better than her and Mark in no uncertain terms but there was always _more _that I could be doing with my life. I learned relatively young to just tune them out and I think that my siblings did too. There wasn't a whole lot that we could do besides ignore them.

"You're one to talk about fight-y." She laughs at me. "For all that you talk about propriety, you don't seem very interested in - I don't know, _not _insulting your instructor both to his face and behind his back."

"I don't do well with idiots, Chris. And I don't know what Tris sees in him but he seems like an idiot and an arrogant one at that."

I've always felt bad for Eliza; her parents may have been quiet about their opinions around mine, but they were two of the worst by far and I can't fathom having to listen to them all the time. I could barely stand to listen to them at my parents' parties.

She snickers. "Well I'm not going to disagree with you there. Still," she probably grins at me. "I think you might be even worse than me."

I roll my eyes. "No point in being nice when he's such a dick to me, yeah?"

"Sure." She chuckles.

Call me tactless, maybe Dauntless has just brought up something in me that I'd always choked down for the sake of propriety. I've never thought it prudent to be openly rude before, especially not to figures of authority. But Four, if nothing else, inspires a kind of anger in me I've never really felt before.

I see her silhouette reach up and scrape her hand through her hair again. "You know, I think I need a shower. I don't suppose you're planning on sleeping any time soon?"

I shrug. "Who knows. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Mimi."

We both get up, me to go back to my bed and her to go to the bathroom. I lay down and stare at the bunk above me, letting my mind wander anywhere but the gaping maw of darkness I faced today. If every day from here on is like this, I don't know how I'll survive. I don't know how any of us will survive. I don't know how anyone has ever survived literally facing their fears like that. Maybe it would be easier for me if I were really Dauntless. Though I guess I won't ever really know.


	21. Chapter 21: Darker Yet Darker

The next morning, I try not to let things be awkward between Christina and I. But I can't get the sound of her crying out of my head. It's not the first time, but I think much like me she can't help but find it embarrassing. We try not to let it linger between us around the others, when they could notice, but I catch her glancing at me more than once out of the corner of my eye. Concerned though I am, I really don't want to press her if she doesn't want to tell me what's going on.

"Goddamn I slept like shit," Will groans, his head hanging over his breakfast.

"I cannot believe that _this _is the next five weeks of our lives," Al groans. "And we thought fighting was bad…"

"Fighting was bad," I point out. "Just because this is worse doesn't mean that what we went through in the last stage wasn't bad." Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Christina shudder.

"Fair enough. But honestly I'd rather be punched in the face repeatedly than drown in acid."

Christina nods as she yawns. We still don't know what she faced yesterday, but if it made her want to go back to stage one then it must have been awful.

"Ah," Will says with fake nostalgia, "the simpler times."

The five of us share a laugh and not too long after that do we head to the training room to do our warmups. I never thought that I would consider running laps and practicing punches to be the better part of my day, but I guess if Dauntless initiation has taught me anything it's that things can always get harder.

I try and keep focused on my hits to the punching bag rather than yesterday. The room is quieter than it's ever been. Usually it's only like this when Eric is stalking around like Four is now that the chatter stops; usually we talk amongst ourselves as we train and usually – providing he's not in one of his Moods – Four doesn't stop us. Today he doesn't have the chance to because don't even start. Even Peter manages to keep his big mouth shut.

Waiting outside of the simulation room after lunch is quiet too. We all sit in the uncomfortable plastic chairs or on the floor against the wall quietly. Marlene seems to be asleep, curled into a ball against the wall perfectly still. But she springs to her feet when the Dauntless-born trainer – Lauren, as I figured out when one of the Dauntless-born addressed her as such – calls her back suddenly enough to make me and a few others start.

"Okay," Uriah announces after a long, long time. "That's it; I can't take it anymore. If it stays this quiet for the next five weeks then I'm going to lose your mind."

"Oh you can't stand quiet," Lynn says, her gravelly voice light with teasing. "How unusual."

He grins and shrugs like he knows she's right. Then the two of them start talking about some sport that's in season, nothing I've ever been interested in but I listen anyways because they're the only ones making sound. For a little while at least; smaller, quieter conversations between other friends start up, seeming encouraged by them.

But I stay quiet, too tired and too nervous to really think of anything to talk about. Christina is the same way, staring blankly at the wall mostly. Our eyes meet once for just a second before she looks away quickly. I wish that there were something that I could say, that I knew what's wrong. She seems different than yesterday before she had to face whatever it is she doesn't want to talk about.

'_ It's just uncomfortable and not really a conversation I want to have _,' she had said. I'm just not sure what to take that as; did she mean that if she told us then we'd be concerned, then it would become something that we'd have to talk about?

I watch her a little while longer; her blank eyes and slight frown. She picks at the black nail-polish on her right index finger until it's all gone, then she looks down at it and sighs. Even before she was picking at it, it was chipped. Any attempt at beauty beyond basic hygiene doesn't seem to really last long in Dauntless initiation no matter how hard you try. A thousand coats of sealant can't fight the general wear and tear that just seems to come with being Dauntless, but that doesn't mean we can't try. Even the Dauntless-born still try; they've still got that look that I used to admire them for when I watched them at school, the one that Eliza and I whispered over and once tried to replicate in an ill-advised experiment involving lots of shaky eyeliner and dark eyeshadow that made us look more like raccoons than anything. I thought that Melanie was going to have a coronary when she saw us. Her jaw dropped and her eyebrows basically rose into her hairline, next to her Michael doubled over laughing until tears ran from his eyes and he had to sit down – still cackling.

We never told them exactly what we were trying to do no matter how many times they asked. I don't know what they would have said if we had. That little adventure was long before Eliza and I were really aware of how different all the Dauntless looks really were, how they were more than just dark makeup and bright hair. That was three years before we met Kira, who all but swept Eliza off her feet, and four years before we met Gwendolyn, who I can now see never quite let go of the Dauntless style in some senses. She still wears dark clothing and heavy makeup that makes her dark eyes look pitch black against the whites. It's not like the Erudite do it, and I think she knows it too. I think that, a lot like Maureen, she doesn't really care; her Dauntless origins may be embarrassing to her, but I think deep down she'll always be a little bit attached to where she comes from. I know I am.

My eyes grow heavy and I catch them closing for a second before I stop, sitting straighter and shaking my head slightly. I should have had another coffee before leaving the dining hall. I thought I had gotten used to the early mornings, no different from what I had back home, but I hardly got any sleep last night because of talking to Christina and because I was thinking so much about the fear simulation.

I sigh and stare up at the florescent light, the white burning my eyes but I keep staring.

_"Do you ever miss your home?" I ask, tilting my head to the side. _

_Gwendolyn gives me an astonished look, then masks it with her usual stern, flat expression. "I don't know what you mean. My home is here." _

_"No but like…Dauntless. With your parents." _

_She frowns more than usual, looking away at the snow coming down just beyond the café awning. At my request, we're sitting outside shivering in the November air, our gloved hands holding tight to our warm drinks. _

_I only asked because I had noticed her watching as the train streaked by, a half dozen Dauntless leaping out one of the doors into a snowbank where there is usually grass. They paused in their journey to wherever they were off to in City Center to throw snowballs at each other, hooting and laughing. One missed their friend and nailed an Amity in the arm. I think if it were anyone from another faction they would have gotten mad, but the Amity woman just laughed and brushed the snow from her coat. She continued to laugh as she set down the bag she was carrying to scrape some snow off of a tree branch and packing it together to form a huge snowball, which she promptly hurled at the Dauntless who hit her. It hit him in the face and she smiled, picked up her bag, and left. The Dauntless left soon after in the opposite direction, the man who got hit still had little clumps stuck in his hair. Gwendolyn had smiled, and her gaze lingered there until I asked. _

_She took a while to respond; then said, "No." She chuckled. "I mean have you seen them?"  
"So why did you stare?" _  
She rolled her eyes and chuckled again, at this point I had known her long enough to hear her really laugh and it didn't sound like this. But she smiled at me very genuinely like she smiled at the Dauntless. "Because they certainly make it hard not to notice them. It's in their nature."

_"Well I guess you'd know. You too?"  
She raised her eyebrow at me and I laughed at my own question, knowing that if she could help it Gwendolyn would like to go unnoticed by everyone but Melanie; 'so that she can finally work in peace' she often said, though never mentioned the exception until someone else brings it up. _

_I shook my head. "I don't think I'll ever understand how you came from Dauntless." _

_For as long as I'd known her, she'd never shown a shred of her Dauntless roots – I didn't even know until remembered her mother, and honestly I never would have guessed. _

_"That's why I'm here, because I'm not," she said very plainly, like it was obvious. I guess it was obvious. _

_"Is that it? Just because you're not?" I took a sip of my tea, feeling the warmth spread through my chest. _

_I had always been told that there was more to being part of a faction that just having an aptitude, that it filled in parts of you that you didn't even know were missing and the reasons to be there grew longer all the time, I think it was Maureen who told me that. _

_She twirled her long black hair around one gloved finger. The straightened lock resisted curl of any kind, little flyways coming off as she twisted. _

_"Of course not," Gwendolyn said, smiling again. "Like I said, this is my home. Your family may not quite agree, but I do think that nothing else matters as much finding the faction you really belong in. I mean, family's all fine and good, but if they hate who you are then you've got to depend on yourself."  
I nodded. Gwendolyn didn't talk to her family much, there was nothing stopping her of course – my family talked to and visited Mark and our cousins in Amity and Minerva in Candor all the time – but she had no interest in it. Melanie said that she didn't like to talk about it, that she'd be much happier if everyone just forgot that she was related to the Dauntless leader at all. This was the first time I'd ever really talked to her about Dauntless, and judging by her initial surprise I think this was the first time in a while that anyone had. _

_She finished off her coffee and then stood. "Come on. If you want we can go window shopping before we go home." _

_That was the last time we ever spoke of Dauntless in any depth. I guess she finally got her wish, as the public tragedy of the explosion faded and people spoke of the more well-known Makara less and less people forgot. I don't think anyone ever mentioned Dauntless and her in the same breath that I knew of, I certainly stopped hearing Erudite at the social events she and Melanie attended whisper about it. All of a sudden she was more known for her achievements, for her place close to Jeanine and my mother, for her recent department head title then for her mother. Though from the way that she seemed to shuffle around, listless and sad, I don't think she quite imagined her new image like this. I never saw her cry, but I have no doubt that what I saw was grieving. She and I scarcely went out after that too, there was too much to do; too much work to bury herself in and a sister to take care of that she didn't know how to. My family's help alleviated some of that, but I don't think that anything they could do could ever close that hole that seemed to have opened in her chest. Not for lack of trying, mind you, even Mark and Minerva made a genuine effort to make Gwendolyn feel like family. It changed nothing; not when she herself had already been changed. She didn't like to show it, both because it broke her façade and because Victoria was always more important to her than her own feelings, but something in her broke. And I still don't think it's been fixed after two years; patched, maybe. But all the love, and care, and counseling in the world haven't fixed Victoria two years later; I can't imagine that Gwendolyn, who won't even speak of her parents anymore, has healed. _

"Ice Queen," Four's voice snaps me away from my memory with a start.

Christina snickers at my surprise. "Have a good nap?"  
I roll my eyes and walk through the door, my heart beating after at the very sight of the chair.

"Try not to do anything weird this time, Ice Queen," Four says as I sit down.

"I'll do my best." I roll my eyes and tilt my head to the side.

He stabs the needle into my neck and I grimace. The pain is the last thing that I'm aware of.

"Mimette." I hear my mother's voice before my eyes are even open. My heart begins to beat faster, excitement building up inside of me.

I open my eyes, smiling. "Mother."

She returns my smile, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face. I can't quite remember how she's here, if I recall correctly Visiting Day has already passed.

"Look at you, my dear girl; you've grown so strong." She runs her hands over my hair and then kisses my forehead. "I love y-" She takes a jerky step back, shock and horror written across her face. Blood trickles from her mouth and she wraps her arms around her stomach.

"Mom." I reach out to her but she steps back again, trembling.

The blood runs faster from her mouth, dripping onto the floor. She drops to her knees and curls in on herself. An impossible amount of blood pours from her mouth, then begins to run from her eyes as well like tears.

I drop down in front of her, unsure of what to do or if I can do anything at all. She lifts her head to look at me and then lurches forward again, letting her head hang down. Blood surrounds us in a huge puddle and I see her grow paler and paler. I try to help but she keeps pushing me away and tears begin to well up in my eyes. Finally, she slumps completely, still bleeding, her entire body drenched in blood. I begin to sob as cracks appear in her form and she begins to crumble apart.

I don't know what to do. My whole body freezes up and it becomes hard to breathe, all I can feel are the tears running down my face and the blood I'm kneeling in soaking through my pants. Somewhere in the back of my mind I remember that this isn't real, that all of this is impossible so I must be in a simulation. But there's nothing I can do with that information, at least nothing that I know of.

I try to close my eyes but they burn and even when I open them again the burning remains. I lift my shaking hands to wipe my tears only for them to drag across my face and come away bloody. I let out a scream that's choked by my sobs as pain consumes every inch of me. Red begins to tint my vision as the tears come faster and my mother's corpse is about halfway turned to dust.

The blood on my cheeks drips into my mouth and my thoughts scatter further. Even if I could fight off my panic I couldn't even begin to figure out how to get out of this.

I close my eyes again despite the pain because I can't stand to look at my mother's crumbling body anymore and curl in on myself, resting my forehead against my knees.

_It's not real _, I say to myself. _This isn't real _. Then out loud I whisper again, "This isn't real."

But nothing happens, nothing fades. Blood is still running down my cheeks and I'm still in pain. I curl in tighter on myself, trying hard to steady my breathing and failing. I know this isn't real, I _know _. But it feels real; I can most definitely taste the blood in my mouth and my mother's groans of pain sounded very real to me.

I wipe my eyes again, trying not to cringe at the warm blood that stains my palms. I close my eyes, trying to force myself to breathe slowly, when I open them again there's very little left of my mother's corpse. I know it wasn't real. I do.

The red tint begins to fade from my vision, and I let my eyes slip closed once more.

When I open them again, I'm back in the room, my cheeks are also still damp but with tears not blood. I let out a shaky breath and tears well up in my eyes again; I try to stop them because I know Four is right next to me, but I can't, not with the image of my mother bleeding to death still fresh in my mind.

"Ice queen," Four says and I ignore him, resting my arms on my knees and letting my head hang down while I try and fail to collect myself.

He sighs in a very put upon way and then says, "Mimi."

"Hey," I say though my crying. "You do know my name."

"Yeah," he says flatly.

"Just…" I take a deep breath, "give me a second."

"Mhm."

"Was that better than the last time?" I ask, trying to get my mind off of watching my mother bleed to death.

"Well...uh...not really." He drops his voice to a mutter. "You took longer, but not long enough."

I look up at him. "Come again?"

"That run took eight minutes your last one took five, the average is fifteen. You see the issue?"

"No? I'm doing great then."

He hisses, "Keep your voice down. Walk me through how you get out, because I don't think I understand how you're getting through so fast."

"You can see my sims, how the hell do you not know?"

He rolls his eyes. "Just answer the question."

"Do I get to know why?" The tremor fades from my voice as annoyance sets in.

"Maybe if you answer the question."

I scowl. "It's not real, not hard to figure out either. I don't typically cry blood."

He scowls right back and then sighs through clenched teeth. "Get up."

"Excuse me?"

"Now. I'll walk you back to the dorms through the back hallway."

"No." I stand anyways. "I'm fine, thanks."

He shakes his head. "Not a request. Come on." He grabs my arm and half drags me out of the chair toward the door at the back. I try and jerk my arm away but he doesn't let go. He slams the door behind us and half shoves me forward.

"What the-?!"

"Quiet," he cuts me off, his voice comes out low and growl like. "Just listen."

"What?" I respond poisonously.

"Whatever it is that you're doing, you need to stop. You say that it's easy to figure out, but it isn't."

"I don't...what?"

"You know, there's a word for people like you, the ones that present situational awareness inside the sims."  
"Oh really? Thanks for the fun fact."

"Mimi," he groans. "I am trying to help you."

"I don't want your help." I turn away but he grabs me.

"Trust me, you do."

"Trust you," I repeat incredulously. "You're out of your mind."

His scowl deepens and then he lets me go. "Fine." Under his breath he mutters, "It's your funeral."  
I roll my eyes and turn away, continuing down the hallway. I hear him walking the other direction and the heavy door close behind him. I let out an unsteady breath and resist the urge to break down into tears again. My head is pounding and I feel nauseous just like the last time. I take off my jacket and put my hand on the cold stone wall, stopping for a second to catch my breath. I start moving after another minute or so, not feeling at all better but knowing that I should get back to the dorms. At least then I can take a nap.

I shuffle in as quietly as I can and sit on the edge of my bed, leaning my head against the wooden pole. When I close my eyes I can still see my mother, and the blood on my hands. Peter and Molly's talking is the only thing that keeps me from sobbing and/or throwing up on the spot. I try to focus on their voices, unable to talk to Will because he's asleep.

I can't help but wonder what Four was trying to tell me. I mean, I severely doubt that it's anything important; but I'm curious nonetheless. '_ It's your funeral _,' he said; was that meant to get my attention? He has such a penchant for theatrics and he doesn't even seem to know it; I don't even think it occurred to him to lead with whatever he wanted to talk to me about rather than vehemently insisting that I needed to trust him even though he's given me no reason to. He's done nothing over the course of these last five weeks being an ass, threatening people, and forcing myself and my fellow initiates to beat each other into unconsciousness. Fucking forgive me if that doesn't endear me to him.

I don't fall asleep this time, not really. I'm just awake enough to be aware of each person entering the room, but in no mood to talk to any of them or even open my eyes. I slip forward for a second and snap alert, jerking back with wide eyes. So I move to sit properly on my bed and rest my head against my bent knees. I try to think about anything, _anything _but all that blood; instead I just wind up thinking about it more. It isn't until much later when I open my eyes and turn my head to the side to watch the people in the room that my thoughts really change and that's only because Peter gets up with a severely overdramatic swagger once everyone is in the room.

"Ladies and gentlemen, transfers of all ages," he says in a tone that matches his body language perfectly. "I think that I have something that you'll _really _want to hear."

Will sits up, giving a groggy "Hwuh?"

"Oh great," I mutter to him, lifting my head. "More baseless gossip."

He rolls his sleepy eyes. "I wonder what hot new takes the journalists over at Erudite have come up with this time."

Christina wraps her arm around Tris preemptively. Whatever he's got for us today, she's not going to like it.

Peter reaches under his pillow and produces a small navy blue notebook and I realize after a moment that it's _my _notebook. His eyes fall on me and his grin becomes almost manic. I'm torn between lunging at him and pretending like what he's done has no effect on me.

"This is exactly what it looks like, Mimi's diary filled with her thoughts and surely everything that she doesn't say. Now I haven't had a chance to read through it all myself yet, only the first few months of entries. I wanted to save all the juicy bits for you all." He snickers.

Joke's on him I guess, I hardly mention any of them at all; it's mostly me talking about initiation and digressing back to my family. What he has read on his own has no bearing on him or me; it's about my family and my old friends, people that no one here will ever really truly know.

"Where shall I start, Mimi? Your first day or the most recent entry?"

I storm toward him but Molly grabs me before I can reach him and shoves me back toward the small crowd.

He shrugs. "Most recent it is then." He starts flipping through the book backward until he comes upon what he's looking for. "Here we go." He clears his throat exaggeratedly. "'_ October tenth, year 499. Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, it did. I guess I really should have figured that out by now; what else would Four and Eric do for fun if they weren't making our lives a living hell? _'" He snorts. "Good one, Mimi."

"I'm going to kill you." I cross my arms and scowl at him.

He snickers. "Sure you will. Anyways, '_ I have never been afraid of heights before I started here in Dauntless; which just doesn't make any sense, I mean aren't we supposed to be getting over fears, not acquiring new ones? Seems kind of counterintuitive to me; but what the hell do I know? I'm just an Erudite transfer even if I am smarter than half the people I've met here and then some. My parents always said that the Dauntless were brutes with the collective IQ of a box of pencils _–' wow, pencils; really?" He laughs. "They must really hate you then."

"Isn't Carolina Captor-Malachite a faction rep?" Drew says too gleefully. "That doesn't exactly sound like she respects Dauntless as a faction."

"Leave my parents out of this," I snarl.

Peter laughs again. "Hey, you said it not me."

Molly grabs me before I can get to Peter again but this time I drive my elbow back into her nose. She yelps and her grip slackens enough for me to get away from her. The hand she put over her hurt nose comes away bloody but I can't bring myself to feel bad. Al steps between Drew and I to let me try and snatch the book from Peter.

"Visiting Day not go so well?" he mocks as he keeps the book out of my reach. "I wonder what that entry looks like."

"You'll never find out." I try for the book again but he punches me in the stomach and I take a step back.

"Y'know, I have a theory." He tosses the book straight over my head to Molly, who catches it with ease. "I think that you hate the Dauntless just as much as your parents do and you're only here so you don't have to live in their shadow."

"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response." I throw a punch toward his throat but he catches me by the wrist, his grip painfully tight.

"Do you not remember what happened the last time you tried to fight me?" He shoves me away from him into one of the poles of the bunkbeds.

"Mimi!" Christina helps me to my feet.

"I need my journal back." I pull away from her.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Tris trying to grab the book from Molly, attempting the same method she used yesterday to get the article from Peter. I move toward them but something slams into my head and I stumble.

"You are so easy, you know that right?" Peter blocks my path now. "How did you even make it to number nine fighting like that. If you ask me, you and the Stiff should have gone with Edward and what's-her-face."

"Hmm, well I didn't ask. And you know damn well that you got rid of Edward, not the fucking ranking system."

"I'm still waiting on that proof." He blocks my hits easily and when I try to move around him he grabs me by my hair and yanks me back.

Molly tosses the book back to him and at that moment, Four opens the door. The whole room goes quiet at once and we just stare at him.

"Does someone want to explain what's going on here?"

"He took my journal!"

"She attacked me!" Peter exclaims.

Four rolls his eyes and comes forward to snatch the book out of Peter's hands. I reach for it but he steps back.

"When did you get this?"

"When did I...what?"

This, when did you get this book?"

"She brought it from Erudite," Molly interjects, smirking at me. "You can check the dates in the first entries, they're way before the Choosing Ceremony."

He scowls at me. "Was the firepit you threw your clothes in not clear enough? You're weren't supposed to bring anything from there into Dauntless."

"I…"

"This is grounds for expulsion, you know, breaking a rule this big."

I don't respond, I don't have any defense whatsoever.

"But...we don't have very many transfers as it is and because of your scores I am inclined to be lenient. So I think I'll just get rid of this for you and we can keep this between the people in this room. Cool?"

I continue to keep quiet, and no one else promises not to say anything either.

"Or I can just tell Eric and let him see just how much of a problem student you are."

Even if he doesn't throw me out - which he totally would - that could ruin my chances of ever getting into leadership.

I sigh, trying to hide the tremble in my voice as I say, "Fine. Take it."

"What if we don't keep quiet?" Peter says, his manic grin still present.

"Well than I think you'll be hard pressed to find a way to prove it." And with that, he leaves.

Seething, I wait a minute to make sure that Four is far enough away and them leave, blatantly ignoring my friends calling after me. Tears begin to well up in my eyes again and so does the embarrassed flush that comes with it. That notebook was the last thing I had left of my old life; I wrote in it almost every day. So much happened from the June that I got it to now, really everything changed. I can't believe I lost it, and it's not just about getting a new one because that's not the point. The point is that that was my scrap of home, I had let go of everything else either literally or metaphorical. Even my look, with my tattoos and bright stripes in my hair, I was still a Malachite – I was still a part of my family. And I still am, but it was my mother that bought me the journal and it reminds me of her, of everyone. My memories of my last months in Erudite lived on those pages. A part of me lived on those pages.

I stop, pressing my face into my hands to muffle a sob; tears spill down my cheeks and don't stop no matter how hard I try. All that I can really do is keep myself quiet, but it echoes and I am all too aware of how pathetic I sound.

"Mimi?" Marlene's voice interrupts my quiet sobbing and I wipe my eyes one more time before lifting my face. "Are you okay?" She approaches me and I shrink away. She may say that she doesn't mind my crying – or anyone's crying for that matter – but the Erudite ingrained in me finds the fact that I cry at all let alone this much more than mortifying.

"No, of course you're not." She touches my shoulder and I step back.

"I'm fine." My voice breaks, because of course it does.

Her expression softens without her looking like she pities me. "Want a hug?"

I shrug and then she throws her arms around me, putting her hand on the back of my head and pressing my face into the crook of her neck. I wrap my arms around her waist and my throat closes, another sob threatening to escape. I choke it back and take deep breaths.

When it finally feels like I'm able to speak again, I say, "Is it just me, or do we only run into each other when I'm crying?"

She laughs, letting me go. "Seems like it. Come on, I wanna show you something."

"I really just want to be alone."

She takes my hand in hers. "Come on, you'll like this; scout's honor."

"Fine."

I let her pull me along through the compound, around the Pit and then into a small off-shooting hallway I've never noticed before; another turn brings us to a metal spiral staircase covered in graffiti. She runs up the stairs, skipping steps every so often and I just barely manage to keep up. When we reach the top, we're standing above ground, the room is lit only by a massive skylight and a few standing lights. Only a couple other people are here, most of them distracted with their work. Much of the walls, ceiling, and floor are covered in art; charcoal drawings, traditional paintings, spray paint art. One woman wearing bright blue headphones that stand out against her orange hair, stands in the corner of the room in front of a large white canvas with tarps covering the wall. Balloons hang down in front of her and she shoots it with her handgun, splattering purple paint across the canvas, tarp, and her. Pieces of the balloon stick to the canvas but she doesn't seem to mind.

Another man with fluorescent yellow hear who's also wearing headphones is painting on a canvas leaned against the wall. He sits cross-legged and I can faintly hear him humming along to his music when the woman is in between shots.

Others paint directly on the wall, or laying on their stomachs working on paper or canvases spread across the floor. I look around in wonder until my eyes fall on a woman curled up in the corner, sketching on something balanced on her thighs that I can't see. I freeze like a deer in the headlights, my heart beating fast.

She wears a soft smile on her face as she draws; she hasn't noticed us yet, too focused on her music and can't seem to hear anything through her earbuds. She still has braids like she did when I knew her, only now the ends fade to pale, pale blue.

I walk over and tap her on the shoulder, she looks up and her dark brown eyes widening in surprise as she pulls out her earbuds and gets to her feet.

"Mimette," she says incredulously.

"Mimi," I say.

She hugs me tight and then mutters in my ear, "Like Jeanine's nickname for you?"

I hug her back and respond, "Exactly like that."

She gives a delighted laugh and then leans back to look at me. "Oh look at you. It's been so long. How're your siblings?"

"Just fine. How are you?"

"And, uh, also who are you?" Marlene cuts in.

We turn to face her but she keeps her arm tight around my shoulders.

"This is my brother's old friend, Pandora Steele," I explain. "She's...always been like a sister kind of."

"Not like you don't have enough of those already. "She pokes me in the side and I yelp, trying to squirm away, laughing.

"I think I'll leave you two to catch up," Marlene says. "See you, Mimi."

"Bye." I wave and she waves back as she disappears down the stairs.

"So I heard a rumor that the twins got married."

"Melanie's engaged still, but yeah Michael got married last year."

"How lovely. Anyone I might have known?"  
"Michael's married to Maureen Sorabella; you know, the figure skater?"

"You're kidding."

"Not in the slightest."

"And Mel?"

"Gwendolyn, uh...Morgan. Like the old Dauntless leader, you know?."

"Morgan?" She repeats halfway between laughing and gawking.

I nod. "Morgan."

She snickers. "Your mother must hate that."

"Actually she really liked Gwendolyn, they work pretty closely."

"Really?" She raises her eyebrows.

"Really. Oh, and Michael's gonna be a dad soon."

"Wow, little Mikey all grown up." I giggle, knowing he would hate that nickname. "How's Mark?"  
"He's well, still basically in love with his work though. Minerva too."

She hums and smiles. "Sounds like them." She sighs wistfully. "It's been so long since we've talked."

"So what have _you _been doing?" I ask

"Oh...art, art, and, um, hmm let's see; more art. I do mostly traditional art, but I work across all the factions so it's not really a bad field to be in."

"Sounds cool."

"So, Mim, what brings you to Dauntless?"

I shrug. "I, uh, I just wanted to be here. It's kind of hard to explain."

She gives me an odd look. "Really? You have _no _idea?"

"I don't know, maybe. It's, uh, kind of complicated. I guess this is just where I want to be."

Her eyes continue to bore into me. "You've been here for a month and a half and you really have no clue?"  
"No, I really don't. What about you, why did _you _leave?"

She smiles very gently, like I'm some naive child. "Because there's nothing and nowhere else I'd rather be."

I bite the inside of my lip; shouldn't that be my answer to? If not just because that's what I am than because I really truly want to be here? Because there's nowhere else I'd rather be? And there is nowhere else I'd rather be, right?

"Are you okay?" Her brow furrows in concern.

"Yeah. I just, uh, I had a bad day." Bad does not even begin to cover how exceptionally shitty today was. Maybe Will's right; I think that I'd rather be back in the training room taking punches, frankly.

"Want to talk about it?" She sits down against the wall where she was earlier and I join her.

"Eh, not really, no."

"Stage two always sucks," she says. "Trust me, I know. Pretty much no one's good at it especially not on day two. Just...give it time. I've been where you are, Mimette, I really have."

"I know."

"So I assume stage one went well because you're still here."

"If you can call losing almost as many fights as I win 'well'."  
She chuckles. "You know, winning more fights than you lose - by however slim a margin - is still doing better than me. I was dead middle of the pack the whole time. You though, I'd figure you're near the top."

"Number eight," I say. "I was number nineand I only moved up because the guy that was number one got stabbed."

"So I heard. Being all stacked on top of each other literally, news spreads pretty fast in Dauntless." She shrugs. "It's a blessing and a curse."

I snicker. "So the grapevine is universal."

"Y'know, it really is. I once spent a few weeks in Candor working on a mural, I could not go anywhere without hearing about someone doing something illicit. For the faction of honesty, those guys sure do love to gossip. How's Erudite's vine?"

"Abuzz with the Abnegation controversy." I roll my eyes. "It's all anyone ever talks about anymore. Andrew Prior this, and Marcus Eaton that; I know Beatrice Prior, we're friends, and let me tell you I already thought those rumors were bullshit but now I think they're extra bullshit."

She laughs. "I figured. It just...doesn't seem correct. I mean don't get me wrong, the Abnegation Council is a bureaucratic mess and I don't exactly think that leaving them in charge is really the best thing for our city. But going after the leaders' character isn't going to change anything."

"It helps," I point out. "If the pillars of their community aren't morally sound enough to lead us, how can we really trust any of them to?"  
"And if the Erudite aren't morally sound enough to not drag innocent people's' names through the mud than how are we supposed to trust them to provide us with the empirical facts that we all take at face value?"  
I nod, knowing that she's right. But for all the bad things that they've done recently, I trust Erudite. I trust what they can do, the soundness of their science and the reliability of the technology they create.

"Anyways," she waves her hand as if brushing away the subject, "it doesn't matter really. And you have enough to worry about without dealing with our birth faction's drivel. How do you like Dauntless, Mim?"  
"I like it a lot. I have a bunch of new friends and, uh, I don't know; I guess being here is just a lot less...restrained than living in Erudite.

She chuckles. "That it is. That a good thing?"

I shrug, inclining my head slightly. If one could call having a near existential crisis because I've never felt so free a good thing then yeah, I guess this is good. Fate or no fate, it's undeniable that I spent the first sixteen years of my life with my life under the close scrutiny of my faction, my parents' social circle who expected something very specific out of me and all my peers. Something that neither Casey, nor I, nor a few others really delivered on. Of course, none of them were quite like my leaving to Dauntless. The others that I knew vaguely mostly transferred to Candor. Like I've said, there's not very many people in Erudite who think highly of the Dauntless.

Eventually I settle on, "Yes. It is."

The shooting stops eventually and the woman admires her handiwork, the whole canvas has been covered in bright colors.

"Looks great, Bridget!" Pandora calls.

She looks back at us and grins. The yellow haired man looks up from his work as well and looks back, giving Bridget a thumbs up. Pandora gestures for him to take his headphones off and he slides them around his neck.

"What's up?"

"I just wanted to introduce you guys to my little sister, Mimi."

"Sister?" The yellow haired man raises his eyebrow, glancing between us. "'Dora, you never mentioned having a sister."

"We grew up together," she amends. "My parents and hers go way back."

"Aren't you Carolina Malachite's little girl?" Bridget says. "One of 'em, anyways?"

I shrug. "One of them."

"Ay," Jordan says. "I knew her."

"You did?"

"Well of course I did. I was a Dauntless leader, after all."

My eyes widen. He doesn't look like it, not like I've come to imagine what a faction leader looks like. Even Max and Eric fit that mold better than he seems to, more cheerful and good natured than any leader I've ever seen. Even Mark and Johanna don't smile as much as he has in these past few minutes.

"Twenty-three years," he says. "I got out of the game about two years ago."

"Why?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "I won't bore you with the stories of an old man."

"I want to know."

He chuckles. 'Well aren't you just a regular Nose." I shrug and he gives me a bitter smile. "Change in leadership, never liked Max as much as I liked the woman who came before him."

"No one does," Bridget interjects, snickering.

"You guys mean Azalea, right?"

"Yeah," Jordan says. "She hired me and we worked super closely right up until her death. Max though, he was just kinda…eh, old fashioned, I guess."

I nod.

"And what they do now is…mmm, whatever. Also kind old fashioned and I don't really care much for any of it, but I guess I kinda can't complain if I can't fix it."  
"Never stopped anyone from complaining before," Bridget quips.

I make a note of that in my head. In all the time I've been here, I've yet to meet anyone who seems to very genuinely be a fan of the leadership. Four makes it pretty clear that he doesn't like Eric, Jordan worked with them – or Max at least and still doesn't seem to care for them. It seems a little strange to me; in Erudite most of the leadership was pretty well liked if not because they were charismatic than because they were just very genuinely good at what they do. I can't really say the same about Max and Eric; I haven't really seen them _do _anything and Eric makes coming off like a complete asshole a professional sport in which he and Four are locked in an epic rivalry.

"Anyways," Jordan shrugs, "practically ancient history now. Nothing you need to worry about, kid."

"It was only two years ago," I reply, "that's hardly ancient."

"Might as well be here," Pandora interjects. "No one really likes to dwell on the past; especially not the dead."

I pretend like I understand but I can't quite get my head around qualifying two years ago as 'ancient history'. I never knew Azalea but I've known of her for as long as I can remember; she's Gwen and Victoria's mom after all, and a much hated opponent of my parents and Jeanine, and a prominent figure in the city's politics which I've always paid attention to.

But the dead don't matter in Dauntless. Rita's sister who died the first day, she doesn't matter anymore. I didn't even know her name.

"Come on." Pandora throws her arm around my shoulders, making me jolt. "I'll treat you to dinner."

We eat at a small restaurant tucked away in a corner of the second floor of the Pit I would have never noticed otherwise and we catch up. She's a professional artist, she loves her job and our faction, but she misses our family some days. She's still in contact with her dad, but he isn't interested in reconnecting with my parents. If she knows what broke them up in the first place, she won't say. But she thinks it's petty and annoying because, '_ they raised us together, we're a family and family learns to forgive no matter what _'. I don't tell her that sometimes I have a hard time remembering her father's face.

She asks after my parents and I tell her about Visiting Day, about how disappointed I was that Jeanine couldn't make it. She says we'll have to all get together when I'm done with initiation, do something as a family the way we haven't done in years. She'll even coax out her dad.

I try to imagine that, while running my fingers over my diamond tattoo. My second father, a man who has been out of my life for longer than he was in it. His leaving was sudden, and my parents tried to brush it off. He loves us, they would remind us, and we didn't do anything to make him leave. But that didn't make things better. My older siblings got to see him on their own time, Mark and Minerva both worked in his shop before they left. But I was so young that by the time I could do something like that he was just gone; my parents didn't know what happened to him and don't seem to care.

But sometimes I like to imagine stopping by for the hell of it. '_ I'm Mimette, you helped raise me, remember? _' and he would. But I know that's just me being sentimental, trying to recreate a relationship with someone I barely knew.

Pandora and I part ways after we eat, but she gives me a big hug and kiss on the cheek before she goes. She loves me; my eldest sister is back and she loves me still. Before I go back to the dorms, on a whim, I stop off at the tattoo parlor. Only the woman who did Tris' bird tattoo is there, she's sketching something out in a notebook and humming along to the quiet music playing.

I clear my throat and cross the room. "Excuse me, are you still open?"

She glances up at me. "Sure, why not? What'cha need?"

I extend my wrist to her. "Two more of these, please; on either side of the bottom."

"Interesting choice." She leads me back to one of the smaller rooms. This time it feels less alien, less impulsive It's something I have to do. My eight siblings, who would I ever be without them? My family makes me who I am; I can build on top of it, but I can't erase it and I don't want to. I treasure the ways in which we're alike and I know they do to. No faction lines, no time spent apart could ever separate us. I can't wait for us all to be together, as the complete family unity we haven't been in more than a decade.

I smile a little too much through the process of having my tattoo done.


	22. Chapter 22: In Spite of Fear

At some point, before I'm truly able to process it, initiation comes to an end. It's unmemorable, unremarkable, and everything that comes after that is a blur. I literally cannot remember what events aligned to lead to me working where I am, a dull gray office in which there is absolutely nothing of interest at all. I'm sitting in a chair, in a cubicle, staring off into nothing. I'm not quite sure how long I've been here, but I already look forward to going home. My friends are all probably off doing interesting things with their lives, something more worthwhile. I brushed over a picture of Eliza in the newspaper yesterday, something about her being the fastest progressing intern already on her way to a position at Jeanine's side. My family all has their own things to occupy themselves with to; work, weddings, children. We spend time together occasionally but what's the point when I can't answer the simple question 'what have you been up to?' with anything worthwhile?

What was the point of trying so hard in initiation if _this _was where I was going to end up? My rank didn't even wind up mattering, it was just something to boost my ego. Except I did so unremarkably that it doesn't even do that.

Wasn't I supposed to do things with my life? Make my parents proud of me, make me proud of myself?

I am fine, I am free, but I am only just. I cannot say with any certainty if it was worth it. I threw away everything for Dauntless, to chase down the grand adventure I knew was out beyond my family's shadow. But that's not what happened, I have found no adventure and little satisfaction here. What is there to look forward to every day? To a job I don't like, to friends I feel slipping away day by day, to my shattered dreams? I once thought there was no fate worse than death, then I knew that factionless was worse, but now - _now _I know that the worst a person can do for themselves is to scrape by. My existence is empty, cold, and small.

A whirlwind picks up in the office, suddenly sending papers scattering off my desk and caught around me like a tornado. The air is being pulled from my throat and I gasp for breath, reaching out to push through the storm but find no relief. How did I get here? What did I do to deserve this? Outside the window, to my horror, I see the sun rise and set in fast forward. Time is flying, how long have I been here? Months? Years? How long have I been wasting away like this?

My hands begin to shrivel, and the hair flying around my head turns gray. I let out a wail of despair, falling to my knees and feeling my old joints groan in protest. This not what I had planned for myself, this is not what I wanted. I want to go back, I must. Whatever I messed up in initiation I have to set it right, because I think I would rather be bleeding on the training mat or living my worst nightmares than living this equally terrible nightmare.

Wait a minute.

I snap awake and frantically look down at my hands, which are not shriveled like old prunes and run my fingers over my hair, which is as black and blue as it was when I walked in. I am young, I still have the world at my feet, I haven't failed yet. I shake my head, banishing the thoughts and fears. Before Four can criticize me for reasons still unknown, I'm on my feet and out the door. My body is drained, and I'm headed back in the direction of the dorms for my daily nap when Marlene intercepts me.

"Hey, Mimi."

"Hm?" I raise my eyebrows at her, it's all I can really manage in this state.

"You look like hell. Let's do something about it."

"Unless the next words out of your mouth are '_ take a nice long nap, _' I think I'm going to have to pass.

"Oh, come on." She tugs on my arm. "You've been miserable lately and it doesn't seem like what you're currently doing is helping much."

"Yeah," I huff. "That's because nothing helps. Nothing except getting all of this over and done with as fast as possible." I know Minerva said to take my time, but she doesn't have to live through any of this.

"Well I don't know about you, but spending the next like five weeks moping doesn't sound like very much fun to me."

"I'm not moping," I protest. "I'm just…Look, how are you dealing with this so well? We're literally facing our worst nightmares and yet you're," I gesture to her, "just fine."

"What else am I supposed to be?" She says with surprising seriousness. "Miserable all the time?"

"I'm not miserable all the time."

"No?"

"No." I pull away from her and fold my arms. "I'm just trying to be realistic about the situation put before me, which is objectively horrible."

"Well almost all of initiation has been objectively horrible," she snaps, and then her face goes slack. "No. No, I didn't mean that."

"I think you did."

"Yeah, well you know what? I refuse to live like that. I can't stop looking for the good in this, in everything. I refuse to be bitter."

And in hearing this, I'm the one that feels bitter. What do I do anymore besides sit around and wallow in my own misery unless my friends drag me out for something? You want to talk about a one way trip to exactly what I saw in my fear simulation today, I can't imagine a better way.

"You know what, Marlene," I muster a weak smile, "I think I could use a little fun."

She beams and takes my hand in hers, pulling me in the direction of the Pit. "Well I know just the place."

She leads me down to the first floor and stops with a proud smile in front of an opening to a dark room with some of the most hideous carpet I've ever seen and flashes of neon lights emerging.

"And this would be…?" I raise my eyebrow at her.

"Only the best arcade in Dauntless." My hand still in hers she leads me inside. It's loud and bright, with aisles upon aisles of game stations set up and a snack bar bursting with treats on the far side of the wall. There were arcades in Erudite, but they didn't look like this and I never spent much time in them anyways. Casey never cared much for videogames and Eliza wasn't allowed to go. The few times I did go inside were with Michael, who loved and still loves a good shooting game or platformer even if he would rather die than admit it.

"You pick the first game," Marlene says. "Imma go some snacks."

I wander the rows, recognizing some games but others are foreign to me. I pick a two person platformer, something with controls I'm vaguely familiar with and wait until Marlene reappears with all the snacks in the world in her arms. There's bags of popcorn, hot pretzels, cotton candy, boxes of candy. Comfort food.

"Good choice," she comments, unloading her hoard on a nearby table and handing me a pretzel as she takes her place at the controller beside me.

It's hard to tell how long we spend in there, but by the time we've stuffed ourselves something inside me has unwound and I can laugh like it's nothing. Marlene seems satisfied with this and offers me a seat at the dinner table with the Dauntless born but I tell her I should stop off at the dorms. I don't want my other friends to worry about where I am. She nods in understanding and disappears into the crowd. As she's gone, and I'm alone, I once again feel that bitter bile and sense of purposelessness well up in my throat. I swallow hard and start to walk back to the dorms, sure that seeing my friends and distracting myself with their conversation will once again lift my spirits.

As I pass by the hallway that leads to the Chasm I catch a glimpse of a hunched figure on the bridge. I back up to see Al sitting with his legs under the barrier, his feet dangling in open air over the Chasm and his shoes occasionally being splashed by the turbulent water. He rests his chin on one of the bars and stares into space. I make my way over but he doesn't seem to notice my approach.

"Hey." I sit down next to him, ignoring the way that being so close to the railing makes my breath shake. "Can I keep you company?"

He lifts his head and gives me a sad look. "What, Mimi?"

"I'm worried about you; you've been kind of avoiding us."

He sighs. "It's nothing."

"No, it's not. Come on, you can tell me."

He rests his forehead on the bar. "I just…I'm not cut out to be here. Four knows it, Eric knows it, Peter knows it. Why should I even bother at this point?"

"Al…" I put my hand on his shoulder.

"I should just save myself the humiliation and drop out."

"No. You obviously belong here and if they can't see that then they're fucking blind."

He looks at me again. "You don't have to sugarcoat everything, Mimi. You're not dumb, you know that I'm not doing well; Edward and Myra leaving was the only thing that saved me from flunking out in stage one and…and that wasn't fair to them. They deserved to be here a lot more than I do."

"That's not true." I put my hand on his shoulder. "Look, it sucks now but the whole point of going through all of this for fifteen weeks is because we improve. And then it's over and we're all going to be just fine."

"Easy for you to say." He gives me a cold look. "You're number eight."

"I - I…" He's right. I know he's right and this would sound so much better coming from anyone but me. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's…whatever." He rests his head back on the railing. "I just wish that I was good at this. Any of it." He drops his voice to a murmur. "I was too ashamed to even face my parents on Visiting Day. How could I look them in the eyes and tell them what a loser I am?"

"You're not a loser. None of what happens here is a measurement of who you are; how brave you are. And you're very brave; I see it, everyone sees it."

He shakes his head. "Not everyone. Not even me…"

"Well a mirror isn't a perfect reflection of ourselves, is it?"

"That's deep," he says with half a laugh. "Doesn't mean I belong here though?"  
"So why are you still here?"

He shrugs. "Because supposedly I'm Dauntless. That's what my test said anyways. You know, this is supposed to be the place you meet people like you but so far I seem to be nothing but the odd one out. The weak link."

"You're far from weak. A-and your test doesn't define who you are; you still get to choose. So why do _you _want to be here?" I don't know what it's like to want to be somewhere just because you're told that you belong. Maybe for some people that really is a good enough reason. But I don't belong anywhere and I chose to be here and continue to choose it every day. Even if I'm an anomaly, I can imagine that at least some part of that is universal.

"I guess I just…wanted to be strong." Tears start to well in his eyes. "But I'm not. Nothing's helped; nothing's changed. I'm still weak and scared just like everyone says I am."

I wrap my arm around his shoulders as he begins to cry. He turns in toward me and sobs into my shoulder. His large arms wrap around my chest as his body trembles.

"Al…" I hold him in return and he looks up at me, tears glistening in his eyes. "Look this is gonna sound really corny, but more than anything I just want to be someone who means something to you guys. Someone who can make you laugh and smile and forget that you're upset for just a second, because I love you all so much." I smile at him and he returns it. "I mean, since coming to Dauntless all of these amazing and terrible things have happened to all of us but really so much of the reason any of it is any good is because we're all together. I mean maybe it makes me sound kind of mushy but I love you guys so much and I'd do anything for you." I sigh. "It just…wouldn't be the same without you. And whatever you're going through, you don't have to do it alone."

"I just…" his voice breaks. "I feel like there's no way I'm going to pass. I'm going to be factionless and you guys are going to move on without me." He wipes his tears away. "I mean it's okay. You can say it, I already know it's true."

"That's not true." I put my hand on his shoulder. "Look, you're more Dauntless than Peter or his friends could ever be. You belong here, Dauntless is your home and we, your friends, are your family. We love you, Al, and we're here to support you."

He sniffles and wipes his tears from his face with one of his large hands. "I appreciate that, Mimi," he murmurs, "but that doesn't make me any less afraid."

"We're all afraid. Bravery isn't the absence of fear it's...it's the ability to act in spite of it."

He almost smiles. "That's good. You pick that up from the Dauntless-born?"

I shake my head. "Myra. Her father used to say it. I say it now to...to honor her or something like that." I give a light scoff. "That's stupid, um…"

"I like it," he cuts me off.

I snort and raise my eyebrows. "Yeah? My sentimental musings are actually appealing to you?"

"Sure. We could all use a little sentiment sometimes."

"I guess. But, just saying, that would never have flown back in Erudite."

"Well, for so many reasons, than god we're not there."

I roll my eyes. "It's not so bad."

"Then why'd you leave."

God damn do I hate that question. I wish people would stop asking it. "Why'd _you _leave Candor?"

He chuckles. "Because it sucks. Everyone's mean and and all anyone cares about is their jobs. Oh wait, that's also Erudite."

I laugh. "Stop it. I love my home." The words are out of my mouth before I can really think about them. Treason pushes from my heart out my mouth, and I see the puzzled shift in Al's face as he processes what I just said.

"But what about-?"

"I know," I interrupt. "I _know _." I shrink into myself but to my surprise, Al follows my movement to continue being close to me.

"It's okay to be homesick. No matter how much Candor kind of sucked, sometimes I miss it too. I miss the food, I miss being able to tell people how I felt without feeling like I'm gonna get laughed at." He cranes his head to meet my dropped gaze. "What do you miss?"

I clench my teeth. There's only so much sentimentality I can indulge in at once lest it swallow me whole. But I feel it rush over me anyways; my father's embrace, my mother's rare laughter, the twins and the time that they made for me, the smell of brewing coffee on a late light, the view from Jeanine's office.

"Mimi." I realize I've been digging my nails into Al's arm.

Breathlessly I shift away, trying to reclaim my composure. "Nothing. I don't want to talk about it."

"Mimi." Al stands as I do, reaching out for me.

"It's not personal." I put more force behind the words than I really intend to. "I just really, _really _don't want to talk about it." I can feel my throat tighten as I desperately shove the memories of Erudite back further into my mind."

"Mimi, you can't just shut down your feelings."

I lift my chin, getting a handle on myself. "But I can damn well try."

I walk away, leaving Al to himself and ignoring the bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.


	23. Chapter 23: Staying Grounded

The next morning I have to drag myself out of bed, I was barely able to sleep at all last night and now exhaustion consumes me entirely.. I'm tempted to sleep after our morning training, which fails to wake me up in any way and so does the extra coffee I have with lunch. Will and Christina fare only slightly better, well, that's not really true; Will seems to have energy to spare, enough for Christina and I too make tired comments wondering what it must be like to be that energetic all the damn time. My clumsily woven braid mostly falls out by the time we're headed to simulation training and I can't be bothered to fix it so I just throw it up in a ponytail. It's a real fight to stay awake in the hallway, a fight that others who don't sleep well like I do are pretty clearly losing. Christina and I lean on each other as Al and Will talk and Tris just stares off into space. I'll never understand how she does that, guess growing up Abnegation there's not much else to do.

I rub my eyes and sigh, blinking a few times. "I'm starting to think staying up so late last night was a mistake."

"You and me both," Christina murmurs back, her eyes starting to glaze over. "I haven't gone a whole night since we started without waking up at least once." She lets out a halfhearted chuckle. "I'm starting to think that this is as much of an endurance test as it is a bravery one. First one to crack from exhaustion loses."

"Wouldn't put it past Dauntless. Seems very in line with beating the living hell out of each other like we did in stage one."

It hits me in waves how insane what we do here is. Every time I think I've become desensitized to it Four and Eric find some new bullshit to throw at us and I'm once again floored. Who comes up with this stuff?! Who thinks this is a good idea?!

Though maybe you could say that every faction has its own particular brand of insanity. I mean, Erudite believes in running their initiates ragged through crazy hard tests and insane competition. The Erudite-born have a leg up on the transfers if only because there are classes and study guides specifically to prepare them for initiation; it's that hard. Eliza's parents basically forced her into more than a few of those classes but I've still heard that nothing can truly prepare you for the real thing. I used to dread it and every time I wish for home I just remind myself that that is what I'd be facing right about now. I'm tired now and I'd be tired there, my body all but collapsing on itself from a week's worth of all-nighters cramming for tests I'll do mediocre on at best. I'm no Eliza; crazy talented and amazingly smart isn't what I am.

"Ice Queen." I'm snapped from my hypothetical by Four's voice. He waves me back and I groan under my breath, slowly getting to my feet.

"Good luck," Christina says.

I smile back at her as I shuffle through the door and drop into the chair.

"God, you look terrible," Four comments.

I glare at him. "Gee, thanks."

"Are you seriously still mad?"  
I cross my arms. "I'm not talking about this with you of all people."

He rolls his eyes. "Quit being petty. You knew you were breaking the rules."

"Just fucking inject me already," I snap.

"You gonna actually try and do the sim correctly this time?" he mutters.

"I still don't know what you're talking about."

"Because you don't listen," he huffs.

"That's because you speak in goddamn riddles."

He rolls his eyes again and pushes my head to the side. I'm injected and my eyes fall closed soon after.

I open my eyes again and I'm standing in the training room, the lights far above me flickering and casting an eerie effect on the room. The rather vast space is completely empty, the only sound beside my own breathing is the buzz of electricity from the lights. Drumming my fingers on my thigh, I turn around and I'm standing face to face with Will.

"Looks like it's you against me again." He smirks, dropping into his fighting stance.

I do as well. "Are you really that eager to repeat last time?"

"I don't think it will be _that _easy." We move toward each other without any cue from Four or Eric, meeting and exchanging blows. He's right, this isn't as easy as last time and last time wasn't easy by any stretch of the imagination. The two of us seem to be pretty evenly matched and his fists meet old bruises that make me wince as I aim for weak spots I know he has. He doesn't seem to be up for banter like he was last time, something in his face more focused and serious. I know that he's not number four for nothing, below me but probably by a very slim margin. I wouldn't be at all surprised if our match against one another was what decided that order.

As it drags on I almost find myself enjoying this, letting muscle memory drive me. I'm starting to win, pushing him further and further back into a corner and it borders on exhilarating. In everything I do I like to succeed whether I actually find the activity enjoyable or not. I've never liked fighting, but I do like winning. "Stop!" Everything in front of me flickers for a second and then Will is on the ground, blood running from his nose and mouth. There are tears in his eyes and he's got arms up in front of his face defensively.

"Will?" I lower my fists, moving toward him and feeling bone-chilling horror when he flinches.

"Get away from me!" He curls in on himself. "I give up! I give up, Mimi!" A sob escapes his lips.

"Will…" I put my hands out but don't touch him. "Will, I don't understand, what just happened?"

"What do you mean what happened?!" He looks up; anger, fear, and pain mixing in his eyes. "You fucking hurt me!"

"Will, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to." I drop to my knees in front of him and he scrambles back.

"Bullshit! You've always cared about winning more than you cared about other people; that's why you beat Myra even though you knew she was in danger of being cut, isn't it?!"

"No!" my voice cracks. "No of course not! I would never do that to anyone, but especially not my friends!"

He laughs and sobs at the same time. "Liar! Fucking liar, hurting people is what you do! It's what we all signed up for but you know you like it!" His voice drops. "That's why you picked Dauntless."

I freeze, unable to process that through everything else. I know he's wrong, I want to believe that he's wrong. Nobody I've ever hurt has ever been intentional, it's just how things have shaken out. But the part of me that's wracked with guilt knows that he's right; I hurt people even when I know that's exactly what the outcome will be. That's why I haven't started throwing fights like Al, because on some level I still care about winning more than I care about other people.

But that gives me pause. Will is spot on, but how does he sound so much like my guilty conscience? These aren't things I've shared with anyone but my journal, so how does he know exactly how to hurt me? And more importantly, Will would never really do that, right?

He glares, waiting for my response. It hurts to see him shrunk away from me, in pain and knowing that I caused it – even if it isn't real.

"Will," my voice shudders, "this isn't really happening. You're not real."

He gives an incredulous scoff. "What the hell are you talking about–"

"I mean that something like this would never really happen, and we both know that." The fact that it isn't real though doesn't pull me back from the edge of crying. I move toward him by inches, fighting the urge to scramble back and give him the space he clearly needs when it upsets him. "I would never really hurt you, and you'd never hurt me. We understand each other, remember?" His breath hitches, and we're less than an arm's length apart. For a second he raises his hand like he's going to push me away but I take it in mine. "Remember?"

I don't get to hear his response.

My eyes flash open as I gasp, shooting forward in the chair. I swallow a shriek and press my shaking hands together as tears well up in my eyes. I hurt him. It was just a simulation but so very realistic, a jarring example of what I'm capable of doing. That's what it's like to be in Peter's shoes, Molly's shoes, even Edward's to an extent; to have someone cower before you, bruised and beaten. That's supposed to be our ideal, we're supposed to enjoy that. But the very thought of hurting my friend makes me sick to my stomach and very much like the image of the life draining from my mother's eyes that continues to linger I can't get his battered, petrified face out of my head. I screw my eyes shut and try to stop myself from crying but can't and off to the side I'm very aware of Four sitting and just watching this. The frustration and humiliation only bring more tears. I press my face to my legs as I begin to sob, ignoring the exasperated sigh Four gives.

"Ice Queen." His hand brushes my shoulder before he fully commits to putting it down.

I tense, curling in on myself further. "Don't touch me!"

He retracts his hand and says nothing else. I bite my lip as hard as I can in an effort to stifle myself but only succeed in peeling off some of the dead skin as tears continue to stream from my eyes. My throat feels like it's closing up and I have to lift my head because it becomes difficult to breathe. In my periphery I see Four sitting there with his lips pressed together, looking away and seeming like he wants to melt into the floor. I refuse to believe that this is more awkward for him than it is for me and he'll probably give me hell for it later.

He rubs the back of his neck. "Are you gonna get up soon?"

I scoff, almost laugh, and push my messy hair back from my face as I shake my head. "I don't know what else I expected." I push off the arms to the chair to get to my feet and walk out, wiping my eyes as I do. I know that it looks like I've been crying and it makes me flush with shame as I walk through the crowd of initiates still waiting in the hallway. Peter is unfortunately among them. So is Will.

"Aw, why the long face?" Peter mocks.

If I didn't just go through the simulation that I did I probably would have punched him. Instead I barely spare him a glance and turn into the hallway that leads back into the maze of tunnels. I'm not going back to the dorms, I won't let the other portion of my class see me like this. I just want to be away from here.

"Hey." Christina's voice and footsteps follow me, another set close behind but I keep walking. "He-ey." She catches my arm, forcing me to turn around and I see Will on her heels, his brow furrowed in concern. But it overlaps with the mental image of him begging me not to hurt him. I don't realize how hard I'm pulling away until Christina's grip becomes uncomfortably tight. "Mimi."

"Don't you guys have your simulations to go through?" I try to sound nonchalant but my voice trembles.

"Who cares?" Will makes a flippant gesture and then reaches out and puts his hand on my shoulder. "You're upset."

I shake my head, blinking back more tears. "It was nothing. Just…the simulations fucking with my head." I can barely look at him. I've never seen him so afraid except for in that sim and I don't care to map that expression onto his actual face.

"You can tell us anything you know," Christina says. "We're here."

"Not worth telling." I sniffle. "I'm just…being ridiculous."

"You're–" she starts.

"Will!" Lauren's voice from down the hall cuts her off and a chorus of initiates repeating it for her follows.

I glance at him for a fraction of a second. "Go."

He hesitates but Christina nudges him in the other direction. "I've got her."

He looks at me and then looks back down the hall, then heaves a sigh and turns away.

"Tell me," Christina murmurs. "I'm here for you."

I try to pull away again. "Christina, I really am fine. I just want to be alone and you should go back."

"No." Her mouth stays open like she's going to continue but she hesitates, starting a sentence but not finishing. She exhales through her nose and takes my free hand in hers. "You helped me when the sims messing with me. Let me do the same for you."

"It's really not worth telling." I sniffle and look up, blinking back more tears. "I'm just being stupid." I would never really hurt someone like that and I would especially never hurt a friend like that. It's an impossible situation and I have absolutely no right to be this distressed by the idea of something that could never be.

"This isn't Erudite, Mimi. You don't need to have a thirty page thesis to justify why you feel the way you do. Just let yourself be upset."

I want to. I want to collapse into her arms and let her comfort me but my pride won't allow it. Instead I squeeze her hand and I'm about to speak but then we're interrupted.

"Christina!" Four calls and a chorus of initiates repeating her name immediately follows.

She looks back down the hall and then at me with an apologetic expression. I squeeze her hand again and try at a smile. "Go. I'll be around after you're done."

She lingers for another moment longer and then lets go of me. "We're not done here."

I sigh and run my hands through my hair before turning and walking in the direction I was headed before she and Will stopped me. On my way to the Pit I can't stop scrubbing my face with my hands and smoothing down my hair, anything to make me look more presentable and less like the oversensitive crybaby I know I am.

That's what this all is, me being oversensitive and irrational. Will and I both know I would never really hurt him like that, and that I haven't really done all those things my subconscious accused me of in the simulation. But then why does this all get to me so much?

What Christina said about not having to justify my feelings might be true to her, Candor have never really felt the need to justify themselves and the Dauntless don't seem to either. But the Erudite scorn and seek to purge what is illogical, and part of that I understand. Why should I feel so bad about something that clearly isn't real and will never be real?

I enter the dimly lit café Uriah took us to and order the largest coffee on the menu before curling up on the couch. I don't let myself think of home while drinking it, I try not to let myself think of anything at all so I don't start crying in the middle of a public space. The first sip blooms warm in my chest, easing me for just a minute but not nearly long enough. One coffee becomes two, then four, and a fifth as exhaustion of all types sets into my bones. But the bitterness on my tongue, the hum of my nerves, and the jitter of my fingers keeps me from lingering on any one thought for too long. Still, when I close my eyes I can see Will's expression of pure terror. I feel more than guilty for the simulated pain that I caused him.

It wasn't real. I didn't really do that. But, god does it feel like I did. Every so often I'm dully surprised to look down at my hands and see them clean, rough, but clean.

In the middle of my wandering thoughts, something jostles my shoulder. I almost jump out of my skin as my head whips around to face the one that accosted me. Lynn is standing beside me holding a pastry in one hand, looking wholly unimpressed.

"God, you look like shit," she says with no real malice. Her hand sweeps over the empty coffee cups at the table. "Caffeinated enough?"

"Haven't decided," I mutter back. "Did Christina send you after me?"

"No. I came to get a snack, you're the one sitting here looking like you haven't slept in an age and trying to replace your blood with caffeine."

"Makes me feel better," I reply, chin resting against my palm.

"Oh of course it does. You can take the girl out of Erudite but clearly can't take the Erudite out of the girl." I just shrug in response. "Did Peter do something I'll need to fight him for?" I'm sure Marlene's told her and Uriah about what happened with my diary if it didn't just get to them through the regular grapevine. I open my mouth to tell her that I don't need her to feel sorry for me, and I don't want to talk, but she starts to tug on my arm. "Come on. If you sit here any long your butt's going to fuse with the chair." She pulls me to my feet and starts to scoop up the empty cups, staring at me until I help her. We throw them in the trash and I look mournfully back toward the chair for a second, but she doesn't let me linger for long.

"God," she says, "you're practically vibrating." She holds my hand up in front of my face to show me my own trembling fingers. I just shrug in response. "It's okay that you don't want to talk. What's not okay though is this whole sulky thing. That's not how we do it here in Dauntless."

"Don't care," I mutter. "Want to be alone." I start to pull away but she's much, much stronger than me and I know if she wanted she could physically drag me wherever we're going.

"Don't care," she repeats. "We're gonna do something that isn't sitting around drinking coffee until your chest hurts and if you still feel just as shitty afterward then we can deal with that. Until then though, you're going to give me and this a chance."

I look her in the eyes with a clarity I don't think she was really expecting. "Why? What do you have to gain from helping me?"

"Oh my god," she groans. "Are you Erudite just like this all the time? No wonder you're all so grumpy, I can't imagine seeing the world as a series of exchanges with no one ever doing anything for anyone just because it's the right thing to do."

I frown. "What – no…that's not…" I pause to try and rake together some coherent thoughts. "I wouldn't expect you to have such a sunny view of the world."

"Why?" she replies. "Because of the way I act? Someone's got to be the common sense between Mar and Uriah, but we're friends for a reason. I'm helping you because we're friends, and you're sad, and you help friends when they're sad. I don't gain anything but a stronger bond with you."

That almost makes me smile. "That's…really kind of you, Lynn."

"Yeah, well, despite what everyone says I do try to be a nice person." We arrive at a very familiar set of double doors and I start to pull away again, ruining the moment.

"You've got to be kidding me," I say.

"Nope." She opens the door with her hip and leads me inside. "Sometimes you've got to just get yourself moving. It'll make you feel good."

"Hm, doubt it." I'm finally able to cross my arms.

"Don't knock it till you try it." She walks over to a station with rolls of tape and starts to wrap her hands. "You feel like shit, right?"

"I do."

"Then you can do one of two things." She tears off the tape and picks up a different role, this one bright blue like my hair. "You can run away and sulk, or you can do something about it." She shakes the tape and raises her eyebrows at me.

I sigh, honestly surprised she hasn't just gotten frustrated and left me alone yet. I guess that's worth something. "Well, we are Dauntless, so I guess there's only really one choice." Her mouth starts to quirk up into a smile. "I guess I have to do something about it."

She smiles in full and tosses me the tape.

Lynn and I spar until we're both exhausted and dripping with sweat. My sweater, shoes, and overshirt lay forgotten on the ground and the cool air pricks my skin. It wasn't like in training, where we're fighting to hurt each other and win. More than anything else I think she was just trying to exhaust me, and she did a good job of it.

"Okay," I pant, putting my hand up to stop her and she drops her stance. "I think I'm done." I push aside my misgivings and lay down on the mat. Everything around me smells like sweat and it is truly very, very gross but I can't bring myself to care all that much.

She drops down next to me on her stomach with her legs up behind her and her head propped on her fists, looking at me expectantly. "So…?"

"So…what?" I'm still trying to catch my breath.

"Feel any better?"

"…You're not allowed to say 'I told you so'."

She looks satisfied. "But I did." And she was right, I do feel better. I didn't have to think about how scared I was when we were sparring. I didn't see Will's fear-stricken face and I knew that I wasn't capable of really truly hurting her. "Now do you want to talk?"

I shrug. "It's stupid. You'd think it was nothing."

"Maybe. But," she pokes my stomach, "you don't think it's nothing. So spill it."

I bite my lip, but unlike with Will and Christina I know that there's no getting out of this one. There's no one to interrupt us here. As quietly as possible I say, "I'm scared of hurting people."

"What?"

"I'm scared of hurting people," I say a little louder. "I don't like it. It makes me feel bad inside and that's what the simulation was about; I hurt one of my friends." My throat tightens up again. "I don't want to do that. I don't want to fight anymore."

I don't know how I expected her to react. From what I've seen of her she's mostly brash, mostly headstrong, and seemingly always down to fight. But in that moment she moves closer and drapes her arm over me, resting her head on my sweaty upper chest.

"I'm afraid of hurting people too," she says, her voice softer than I've ever heard it. "I know how I come off. I'm meaner than I really mean to be sometimes and I…I mean it, but I also don't. Does that make sense?"

I nod.

"No, I don't think that you being afraid of fighting is stupid. If I didn't grow up with it I might be afraid of it too. But…but you've gotta separate the fights from initiation from the people that you truly care about. They should understand that you'd never really hurt them. Mimi, I know for a fact you're not capable of hurting me and I don't think you could even if you were."

"Thanks, I think?"

"It's good that there are lines that you won't cross. Eric may not act like it, and Four can be a real jerk sometimes, but as far as flaws go you being too caring and gentle is far from the worst thing to be."

"Thanks, Lynn. That…means a lot." We lay in silence for another minute before I start to grimace. "You know, I really hate to ruin this tender friendship moment but this is actually really uncomfortable and hot."

"Yeah." She pulls away from me and we can hear our skin peal apart. "Ick." She sits with her legs crossed and I push myself up onto my arms. "Listen, take it from me: a not very nice person who tries not to make a habit out of saying things they don't mean. You're fine the way you are. You're not stupid or a bad Dauntless for having limits, everyone does."

In that moment a reminder of Michael hits me like a train, because that's his motto for life. Everyone has their limits, and the only way to get ahead is to know yours and play them to your advantage.

"Everyone gets scared," she finishes, oblivious to how far my thoughts jumped away from what she was trying to say.

I mutter, "Bravery isn't the absence of fear, it's acting in spite of it."

"That's good," she says. "Where'd you get that from?"

I smile softly. "A friend." I push myself up and get to my feet, then hold my hand out to Lynn. "Come on, we should probably get to dinner."

Her calloused hand wraps around my forearm and she pulls herself up. "Probably."

"Hey," I say as I'm pulling my overshirt back on. "For what it's worth, Lynn, I think you're pretty nice."

Will and Christina haven't forgotten about what happened earlier. They don't make it a thing in front of Tris and Al, and they don't ask questions about where I've been all afternoon or why I'm covered in sweat, but after dinner Will puts his hand on my back and steers me down a hallway away from the dorm with Christina giving some excuse to Tris and Al before catching up with us.

"Okay," Will says. "Spill it, Malachite. What had you all messed up earlier today?"

I give a heavy sigh. "Do we really have to get into this? I am feeling a lot better, I promise." And that's the truth.

"Yeah, actually, we do," Christina says. "If for no other reason then I won't be able to stop thinking about it until we do."

I sigh again. "Okay." I press my back to the cold, rough stone wall and sink to the floor. They share a confused look before sitting across from me. Looking at Will, his eyes shining with worry, I almost lie. He doesn't need to deal with me being like this, they don't need to hear all about my weird guilt.

But then I look at Christina who has openly bragged about always knowing when people lie. I don't think I could get away with that if I tried.

"My simulation was about hurting people," I confess. "Hurting Will." I rehash the horror of it all for them, and how terrible I feel about the mere concept of causing other people pain. All of the guilt I had kept from them and tried to lock away deep inside myself and how it had all come bubbling to the surface in that simulation. I'm crying before I realize that I am, and the accompanying embarrassment sets in.

Will and Christina look nothing short of horrified. Their hands rest over one another for comfort and as I talk they exchange increasingly concerned glances. When I'm finally finished, breathing heavily as though I'd been running rather than talking, there's a beat of silence and I feel horrific for dumpling everything on them just like that.

Then Christina jerks forward and throws her arms around me. I almost fall backward with the force of it, not really prepared for that reaction. Will joins a moment later, pushing himself against our sides and squeezing in as close as he can.

"You would never do that to me," he murmurs, his lips close to my ear. "I know you, you're not capable of that."

"Doesn't stop me from being scared of it," I whisper.

"Fear is funny like that," he replies and I can hear him sniffling.

I rest one of my hands on Christina's back and the other around Will's waist. It's a long time before we say anything else but this time Christina breaks the silence first.

"It's horrible you had to deal with that alone," she whispers. "We should have been paying more attention to each other."

"Christina, you've got your own problems, don't you?"

"I do." Her voice cracks and she buries her face in the crook of my neck like she's trying to hide from those problems. She mutters something incomprehensible against my skin and I feel something wet drip onto me.

"What was that, Chris?" Will asks.

"I'm so fucked up, you guys." She tries to stifle a sob. "I'm afraid all the time, and I can't sleep at night, and I feel sick, and…" she stops to cry into my shoulder for a minute. "And I want to go home. I never really liked Candor but at least my teachers didn't try to kill me." Her hands ball up into fists with my shirt clenched in them. "I don't wanna do this anymore."

"Christina…" I rest my face on top of her head and don't know how to finish that sentence. She's right, I wouldn't want to do this in her shoes; I don't even really want to do it in mine. Will leans in impossibly closer, I can both hear and feel his breathing.

"I know. I – I know and I don't have half of what you guys do to be scared of. But…if Edward couldn't hack it then what chance do I have? What chance to any of us have if we're not exactly like Peter?"

Christina starts to cry harder and we curl in on each other, on her, and just stay like that for a while. The only light is the soft glow of the lamps above us at regular intervals.

It's hard to gauge how long we stay like that, on and off crying and just holding each other as tight as we can. Eventually, the lights dim as night sets in and we're still there. I'm vaguely surprised that Tris and Al haven't come looking for us yet, but I suppose whatever excuse Christina gave them was just that good.

"Are you guys gonna be okay?" Will breaks the near silence, his voice barely audible over the constant buzz of the lights.

"Something like that," Christina mutters back. "Should probably get some sleep."

"Probably," I echo but don't make any move to get up. I can feel Will's bony frame starting to dig into me, and our three pairs of legs are sort of awkwardly intertwined.

Christina moves for the first time since we wound up like this, contorting so she's faced outward and almost in my lap. She tips her head against me and lets out a sigh. "Shame they don't award points for being a good pillow, Mimi."

I snort and the noise draws an accompanying laugh from Will. For a minute, mine dips back to crying but I force back toward joy.

"Oh god," Will says through his giggles, "we should probably go to bed if we find that this funny."

I exhale, relaxing into the stone wall and in a way wishing that I could meld with it, sinking in to never reappear. "Well I can't get up with the two of you on top of me."

Will makes a choking noise and for a minute his movements become jerky and nervous. He tries to pull away, reconsiders, stresses himself out again, and finally relaxes when Christina reaches over to him.

"Can you relax?" Her words come slow and heavy, on the edge of sleep.

He hums. "Evidence suggests no." Another chuckle runs through us.

In the low light I watch Christina's finger trace lazy figure eights on Will's shoulder blade, not even seeming aware that she's doing it. No one is in the same place as the one before it, even as the motion is continuous. Will's relaxed again, limp over and entangled with me like a piece of cooked spaghetti. I can still feel and hear him breathe, and it keeps me from thinking for too long about the anger and fear I'd seen on him in the simulation. Sometimes he breathes in like he's about to speak, but it never seems to come.

"Mimi," Christina mutters out of the blue, startling me a little. "Will?" I honestly thought she had fallen asleep, her hand had stopped moving sometime ago.

"Hwuh?" Will was well on his way to sleep, and in disturbing him he starts to shift and squirm again.

"Hm?" I angle my head toward her and it puts us somehow closer, her forehead brushing my lips.

"I'm cramping. We should get up." She pushes off my stomach and the ground, falling off of me. Will is less inclined, but shaking off his weight is almost nothing. There's sore spots on my back where it was pressed into the wall and I stand to stretch my arms high above my head.

Will reaches up and with a cheeky smile pokes my exposed midriff. "Squishy."

I put my arms down and swat away his hand with a chuckle. "Stop." Then I help him to his feet.

"Still think you make a more comfortable place to sleep than the beds in the dorms," Christina says as we're walking back, her fingers loosely entwined with mine. Will hums in agreement, trailing behind the two us but forced to keep up by Christina's equally as soft hold on his hand.

We fumble our way together through the dark of the dorm room, trying not to disturb anyone. None of us are in the mood to change out of our training clothes. I kick off my shoes at the foot of my bed, but Christina's hold on Will and I keeps us from crawling into bed before she wants us to.

"Thank you, you guys," she whispers, her thumb rubbing over my knuckle.

"Always, Christina."

"Always," Will echoes. He bumps into me on his way to embrace Christina, and in apology pulls me in as well. Christina squeezes us both tight, rocking and swaying all three of us on our feet.

When she pulls away, my only confirmation she made it to her bed is the groan of the wood and old springs.

"Goodnight, Mimi." Will's hands fumble, and I'm not exactly what he's going for – if anything at all beyond basic contact. His hands finally settling on my shoulder and face.

"Goodnight."

He pulls away and fumbles for the ladder up to his bunk, bumping and slipping multiple times on his way up. I crash like a tree onto my own bed, and fall into a deep sleep almost instantly.


	24. Chapter 24: Something Sweet

I sit up with a jolt. I swear to god, if I have to watch the doors of Dauntless slam shut on me again I might just leave to be rid of it all.

I think the program is running out or ways to torture me with this particular fear. I've seen this one before, washing out of Dauntless; I try to turn and run back inside, pound on the doors, but the earth swallows me up. I tried something new this time, I took a breath and I walked away. I kept walking until the city began to fade around me and all I saw was light.

"Better?" I say, panting for breath I hadn't even really lost.

He frowns at the monitor then mutters, "Looks like you're really thinking your solutions through."

"Thanks," I say in between deep breaths.

"Stop it."

I look up, pressing my palms into my knees. "Come again?"

"You're over thinking this and that's bad." He drops his voice to just above a whisper, "If you don't figure out how to be proactive about fighting your fear then I think you're going to have bigger problems than the final test."

I glower. "Wasn't I just being proactive there? I didn't fight, I rode the wave"

He groans. "No. You're supposed to _conquer _your fear, not try to get around it."

"But I_ was _conquering it. I walked away willingly."

"Don't you think Dauntless is worth fighting for? Don't you want to be here?"

"Of course I do!" I snap not because I know it in my heart but because I know that's what I'm supposed to say.

"Then you can't just be okay with failure. Fight it."

"And how the hell am I supposed to fight a decision being made without any of my own input that just happens to me?"

"Figure it out," he says unsympathetically. "You seem to be pretty good at that."

"Wow," I drawl as I get to my feet. "That almost sounded like a compliment. Must be a sign of the apocalypse."

He rolls his eyes. "Very funny. Get out."

My feet still feel sore from walking and I swear I can feel the tears running down my cheeks. I catch myself running my fingers over my face to wipe away nonexistent tears too many times on my way to the café. No matter how tired I am, I promised my friends we'd all meet up after training for lunch.

Marlene is sitting on one of the overstuffed couches crunching on a biscotti. She waves when she sees me and hums in greeting, a few crumbs falling from her mouth.

"Hi, Marlene." I start to walk to the counter.

"Let me guess," says the barista who seems to be here every time I am, "coffee with milk, chocolate and hazelnut syrup?"

I nod and while thy start to prepare my coffee I sit down next to Marlene.

"What did the wheel of nightmares spin for you today?" she asks, putting up her feet on the coffeetable.

"Failure," I reply.

"Really? Didn't you have that one last week?"

I shrug. "Guess so. What about you?"

She shudders. "Insects, all over my face and body. Eugh, I hate it."

"Yeah." I take my coffee from the barista with a 'thank you'. "Me too."

Just as we start to lapse into silence again, Uriah walks in followed closely by Al. The two of them are talking about a movie that came out last year I didn't bother seeing because it looked bad.

"But it's so bad that it wraps back around to being good," Uriah insists. "It's so funny, just not in any of the ways it's trying to be funny."

Al shakes his head. "No. Objectively it just sucked. There's no such thing as a good bad movie. That's not how things work. Words mean things, Uriah"

They dissolve into debate on the specifics of one scene that Uriah thought was hilarious but Al found just painful to watch. From what I remember of seeing those previews, I think it was actually supposed to be a drama not a comedy.

We trickle in one or two at a time and eat until we're stuffed, talking about everything that isn't training. I forget about the crumbling buildings of the factionless sector and the sound of the door slamming in my face.

It feels good to just be normal, as normal as we can be anyways. It makes me look forward to when everything is said and done, when we come back to this café as adults and laugh for years to come.

I eventually break away from them to relax in the art room, which Marlene is thrilled that I've taken such a shine too. Pandora is laying on her stomach painting on a sheet of parchment held down at the edges. At the sound of my footsteps she looks up and grins.

"Mimi!" the delight in her voice is like a warm drink on a cold day, it makes my chest feel full and a smile come to my face. She waves me over to sit next to her. Her painting is of the sailboat on the ocean, something no one alive has ever seen and something we can only guess at. If it even still exists at all, it might as well be a fable.

"You like it?"

"Yeah, of course. It looks…it looks amazing."

"You should make something. You should paint with me."

"No." I shake my head. "No, I really can't – I'm not very good at–"

"Well how do you become good at something?" She's quoting back an old Erudite adage, anyone can do anything if they try hard enough. I've heard it since I was a kid, and it feels strangely comforting to hear it now.

"You try."

"That's right." She sits up and crosses her legs, scooting her set of paints in between us and pushing aside her parchment, letting it roll up again. "We can just paint right here on the floor. Whatever you want."

"Um…" I look to her for a suggestion.

"Flowers, everyone likes flowers."

I think of that giant fire colored flower in the other room, Azalea Morgan's epitaph. I know the symbol of Dauntless is a flame, but a flaming flower seems cruel considering how she died.

Pandora doesn't try and talk to me about how initiation is going, we barely speak at all until she looks over at my painting to compliment me.

"Do you remember when we were kids and we'd all make arts and crafts together at the kitchen table? Your mom would get out that big box of markers and pencils and then they'd put all our stuff up on the fridge."

I nod, also remembering how at some point Mark and Pandora figured out for themselves where she kept that box and then it was every afternoon after school. They would talk about their days over sketching, and a lot of the time I would join them with my scribbles. Mark would hold me in his lap and Pandora would analyze the deeper meaning of my drawings with a comical amount of detail. Mark always liked art, and Amity is a community full of artists. But somehow along the way he became more like Mom. I wonder if Pandora regrets that.

"I miss it," she says, breaking my train of thought. "Sometimes I miss being a child in Erudite, with my dad, with your parents. It feels like these days our family's all split up, I haven't seen Mark in years."

"But you were practically attached at the hip back then? What happened?" I was too young to remember what preceded that Choosing Ceremony where they both left us. I only remember the aftermath.

"Well…before we both left, we made a promise not to get in each other's way or hold one another back. I – I would have stayed for him and he would have done the same for me. But we needed to set an example and follow what was good and right for us instead of always thinking of what the family might want. Minerva wanted to leave, I could see it in her eyes even back then; but I don't think she would have if Mark and I had chosen differently. If she couldn't have both of us always around her then maybe it would inspire her to choose what really made her happy. And I think a lot about how much that worked, sometimes it makes me sad but mostly I'm happy for her." She sniffs. "And I'm happy for you too. You didn't let anything or anyone hold you back."

But I'm not sure if I made the right choice sometimes. Pandora is Dauntless because there's nothing else she'd rather be, but I think a lot whether or not I'd rather be Erudite or Amity or even Candor and sometimes that answer changes. Maybe it would be easier sticking to what I know – or what I knew anyways – or at least not chasing down the hardest challenge possible. Maybe I should have let someone get in my way, would that have been so bad?

"Hey." She taps my chin with the wooden end of her paintbrush. "Don't overthink it. I know that's like asking you not to breathe, but just try and take things in. Enjoy this while it lasts." Minerva told me something similar on Visiting Day, to savor the last days and weeks before I was truly, truly an adult. There were big things on the horizon and she wanted me to not have to deal with them for now. She wanted me to be happy too.

When I crack a smile she seems satisfied. She shifts positions and drags a backpack toward her.

"Hate to cut the conversation short, but I've got a meeting with a client." She starts to collect her paint jars but then pulls out a small black rectangle and hands it to me. "Here, this is another paint set. Yours to keep but I'd really like to see you use it."

"Okay." I nod. "I will. Have a good meeting."

She pushes off the floor to get on her feet but bends down again to kiss the top of my head before making her exit. I open up the box of paints, the basic rainbow with a few extras and a palette for mixing. Instead of getting up to go do something else, I relax further and assume a position not unlike the one I found Pandora in when I first came up and start putting the finishing touches on my flowers.

The next time I'm disturbed, Christina is standing over me.

"Hey." I push myself into a sitting position and cross my legs. She sits down across for me and offers me a smile.

"I've been wondering where you disappear to," she says, looking around in wonder. "I guess I'd want to spend all my time here too if I'd known about this place."

"Marlene showed me," I say. "Um, the day Peter took my journal. It didn't really occur to me to tell you guys. Sorry."

She shrugs. "'S nothing. You never struck me as an artist." She looks over at my shoulder. "Nice painting though."

"Thanks. And, uh, I'm not; my, um, one of my sisters lives here now and she's an artist. I'm just borrowing her paints because she wanted me to make something."

"You have another sister?"

I shrug. "Sort of. We were raised together. It's a little complicated."

"You just know people all over the place, don't you?"

I shrug again. "None in Abnegation. To my knowledge at least. Maybe one of my sisters-in-law have friends there too that they've just conveniently never mentioned."

She nods, and suddenly seems to grow more nervous. I see it in the way that her hands twist together and her face grows tight. "Um, off topic but I've kind of got something I need to, um talk to you about."

"Should I be nervous?" I tease.

"No. Um, maybe. I don't know. I'm nervous."

I giggle. "I can see that."

She lets out a shuddering breath and mutters to herself "Oh my god. Um, okay, okay. I can do this."

I laugh again at listening to her psyche herself up, but it's more nervous than anything else. Christina doesn't get nervous. I can't imagine what she would need to talk to me about so badly.

"So, um, I kind of just wanted to tell you how much I value our friendship, and how much I care about you." She squeezes her hands together and I can see the faintest hint of a blush on her cheeks.

I nod. "I know, Chris. Your friendship means the world to me."

"Good." Her voice gets quieter. "I just…don't want anything to change."

"What do you m–" I'm interrupted by her bringing one hand up to cup my cheek. I can feel her fingers shaking as she stares into my eyes. My heart pounds and I expect her to lean in, but she doesn't. Instead she starts to pull away.

"I – I – I'm sorry. This is not, like, my wheelhouse. I can't do this. Can you just forget that we ever – that I ever–" She squeaks as I drape my arms over her shoulders.

"Do you want to kiss?" I ask.

Her expression bottoms out. For once our positions are reversed; me the blunt to the point one and her having clearly rehearsed this in her head a lot before coming up here.

"Yeah," she whispers.

"Okay." I lean in and press my lips to hers and she kisses me back, her hands coming up to my cheeks.

She pulls away first and says. "So, like, I've kind of had a big crush on you for weeks now. Sorry, this is all a bit much for me." I laugh at the way she nervously twists her fingers into her curls and her eyes flicker to meet mine and away again.

"Don't be sorry." I kiss her again.

"I just…I don't want anything to change," she whispers when we separate again. "I like the way we are – were – I don't know."

"Well then they don't have to change if you don't want them to," I reply. "We can still be friends. Will, and you, and I can still be the power trio," she laughs at that, "but we just know our feelings now. And we kiss sometimes."

"And you'll be my girlfriend?"

"Of course." We kiss again.

We stay like that a while, talking quietly, kissing every so often until the sound of feet coming up the metal staircase startles us into moving away from each other. With a red face I pretend to be in a conversation about a movie we both saw as Pandora appears.

"Oh, hi, Pandora," I greet her. "How did your meeting go?"

She shrugs sort of lazily. "He decided to go with another artist. My style just wasn't what he was looking for. Didn't matter because we couldn't agree on a fair price anyways." She smiles. "It happens. Did you get a chance to finish?"

I shake my head. "Um, Christina and I kind of got, uh, distracted." I laugh and blush. "Oh, um, Pandora, this is my…my, uh…um uh…" We look at each other, confused and giddy in equal measure.

Pandora chuckles. "That's alright, take your time. Christina, I'm Pandora, Mimette's semi-adopted older sister."

"It's nice to meet you."

Pandora sits down next to us, crossing her legs. "So, have you decided what you are yet?" She laughs at her own little joke.

My blush deepens and I can only imagine that I'm scarlet at this point. I twirl one of my loose locks of blue hair around my finger and avoid meeting her eyes. Christina doesn't offer up a response either, suddenly very interested in the wall to her left.

"Adorable," she snickers. "I remember being your guys' age and trying to figure this stuff out. Girlfriends, right?"

"Yeah," says Christina. "Um, but it's kind of new."

"Like twenty minutes new," I add with a nervous laugh as Pandora, in true older sister fashion, coos and calls us adorable. "Please stop."

"That is too cute."

"Whatever." I fold my arms.

She laughs again and begins to pick up her paints. "Well, I can take a hint. I'll leave you two to it."

"Please just go." I bury my face in Christina's shoulder, too embarrassed to even look at her anymore. Her laughter echoes all the way down the stairwell and I don't look up until her footsteps are gone.

"You know, it's funny," Christina says. "Like, as bad as that was I know I'd do the exact same thing to my little sister.

"Ah, so all older siblings are instinctually terrible. Duly noted."

She laughs. "It's only because you make yourself such a fun target to tease." A wry grin splits her lips as she pokes my cheek. "You get all flustered and huffy, it's hilarious."

I roll my eyes. "Oh whatever." I lean back against the wall and Christina's eyes follow me, just sort of lingering until I say, "What? Please don't tell me I have something in my teeth."

She shakes her head. "No. No, nothing like that. I just think that you're, like, you know…" she looks down, "really cute. Like all the time, it's amazing."

I put my hand to her cheek and tug her closer. "You're cuter."

She giggles. "No you."

It feels like the most unbelievably cliché thing that's ever happened to me. But that doesn't make it any less amazing. Christina tucks her head in the crook of my neck and we talk idly like, as she requested, nothing's changed. But as we lay there until dinner I could feel the way things had changed between us. Not much, and not in a way that I wasn't thrilled by. But things were different now, and I held that in my mind alongside the thought that change wasn't so bad.


	25. Chapter 25: Doubt Comes In

After dinner the next day, we all rush back toward the dorm room, word having spread that they'll be posting the rankings, the last we'll see of them until the end of initiation but the first time ours and the Dauntless-born's will be together. I don't know if what I've done this week will have improved my score. Four doesn't really act like I'm doing well, what with the constantly telling me to do it correctly and all. I just don't know how, I don't know what he wants me to do. I can't fight half the things I come across so what else can I do?

Four isn't here this time, it's Eric presenting the scores. He does it without fanfare, just hangs the board on the wall and walks away. Immediately when he steps aside we swarm the board, eager to see where we are.

Tris' name is in the first slot, mine is still sitting in the second. Our average times are beside our names, Tris' is two minutes forty five seconds and mine is four minutes three seconds. Peter, who's in third, has an average of eight minutes.

"Always the bridesmaid," I mutter, then turn to Tris. "I hope you're up for a little friendly competition."

She responds with a weak laugh.

I notice that Will and Christina are in seventeenth and twenty-sixth respectively, Al is in almost dead last.

The crowd breaks up, the Dauntless-born headed for their dorms but Drew and Molly are the only transfers that go back to ours.

"Nice job, you two." Marlene claps both Tris and I on the shoulder as she passes, Lynn and Uriah nod and Uriah smiles but neither of them say anything.

Peter turns slowly, looking at Tris with narrowed eyes and his whole body tense like he's about to pounce. He shoves her hard against the wall and hisses, "I will not be outranked by a Stiff. How did you do it, huh? How the hell did you do it?" He pulls her forward only to slam her back against the wall.

Will rips him away from her as Christina, Al, and I move between them. He can fight, sure, but on his own he can't beat all five of us.

"Leave her alone," Will snaps. "Only a coward bullies a little girl."

"Little girl?" Peter repeats with a sneer. "Are you blind, or just stupid? She's going to edge you out of the rankings and out of Dauntless, and you're going to get nothing, all because she knows how to manipulate people and you don't. So when you realize that she's out to ruin us all, you let me know."

"You've got to be kidding me." I roll my eyes. "I think those conspiracy articles are killing off what few brain cells you have, Peter."

"There's no way you two of all people just made it to the top two spots by trying your hardest every day. No one is that fast."

"Well we are, that's why we're number one and two. Have you considered that maybe you're just a miserable coward?"

"Oh that's a real nice thing to say about your friends who are doing worse than all three of us." He tosses his head in their direction.

I pause, not having thought about it like that then say, "Well my point still stands. Tris isn't some malevolent fuckin' genius capable of manipulating us all. She's just better than you and your massive ego can't handle that fact."

"She's ahead of you too, Mimi," he says with unexpected calm. "Second place is just first loser."

I grimace as he walks away and roll my eyes. But when I turn back to my friends I'm surprised at the layer of tension between them.

"Is he right?" Will asks Tris quietly. "Are you trying to manipulate us?"

"You've got to be kidding me," I interject.

"No, I'm not. You're just dismissing that completely out of hand and maybe that's not the best id–"

"I'm dismissing it because it's ridiculous. I mean are you even listening to yourself, it's Tris. In what universe is she capable of that sort of manipulation?"

"You know that you can defend me without insulting me, right?" Tris frowns at me.

"Come again?"

"That's the second time your argument has basically been that I'm not manipulating you guys because I'm not smart enough rather than you're my friends and I would never do that."

"Did you miss the part where I'm on your side here or what? You and I both know that you're not capable of that sort of thing."

If looks could kill then she would have slain me there.

"Will you guys just," Al trails off. "...Just don't."

"Will, don't be an idiot," Christina cuts in, seeming more annoyed at the argument than what we're arguing about. She nods toward Tris and says, "She isn't acting." Then she looks at me. "Mimi...Tris is right, you're being a jerk."

"About what?"

Her lip curls. "As much as it makes me want to throw up, Peter's right. You are aware that we're behind both of you, right? Like, if he's a coward than what does that make us?"

"You know that's not what I meant."

"No, I really don't. You already think you're better than the rest of us, you've admitted it yourself."

"You've got to be kidding me. Are you referring the diary thing, that was nothing."

"No it wasn't," Al interrupts. "Your family already apparently thinks Dauntless is garbage and I'm starting to think that's rubbed off on you."

"I wouldn't be here if it did!" I snap. "I don't think you guys are stupid and I don't think you're cowards." _I think you're /being/ stupid _, I add in my head. "I didn't write that stuff down thinking I'd ever have anyone interpreting it."

"So you just were as brutally honest as humanly possible." Will crosses his arms.

"Oh for fuck's sake–"

"Don't 'oh for fuck's sake' me. What Peter read wasn't nothing."

"I know! Believe me, I know better than any of you that it wasn't nothing."

"Oh forget it." Christina throws her hands in the air. "You guys are hopeless."

"What did I do?!" Tris exclaims and Christina glares at her in response.

She storms off toward the Pit and Will follows her. Al heads for the dormitory and, not wanting to be left alone with Tris, I just decide to head to the Pit as well. I keep my distance from Christina and Will and split off from them as soon as humanly possible. I head up to the art room looking for Pandora but only find Jordan and a few other people who I hadn't seen last time. There's a woman talking to Jordan who has a tattoo underneath her eye, the two of them smile and laugh with each other.

I decide not to interrupt them and look around instead. There's a doorway at the other end of the main room that I walk through. Inside there are free standing walls like a maze. Most of the walls are blank, but to my left a series of designs with plaques underneath them snake around the walls. Most of them are bigger than I am tall, the one closest to me is a faded but very realistic looking flame, the golden plaque glitters in the early evening light. I walk the edge of the room, looking at all of the designs. Many of them have to do with fire, or are colored like fire; Dauntless' symbol I suppose.

The very last one looks new, or at least newer than the others; a massive flower colored like a flame. I brush my fingers over the paint and then kneel down to look at the plaque. It says, 'Azalea Morgan, The Bright' and below that is says, 'November 23rd 469 - December 28th 497'. I stare at the flower for a while, maybe I should think something about this - about her. I know so many people who knew her, and knew her well. But I didn't; I'm too young and was kept too far from Dauntless to ever have known her beyond a face and a name. My parents never liked her and neither did Jeanine, I know that Minerva liked her stances but thought she was a jerk, Mark never talked much about her but I can say with confidence that he didn't like her much - my brother may not like to talk about his work but I know well what his politics are, and that they often clash with Minerva's. Gwen and Victoria never talk about her, not that I expect them to. Gwen hates talking about Dauntless period, and knowing that her mom was considered to be the most Dauntless of all had to sting.

"Looking for Pandora, I presume." I shriek as the new voice breaks through my thoughts. Jordan leans against the corner of the free-standing walls, his arms crossed and a look of amusement on his face. "I don't think you'll find her in that plaque."

I stand. "Um, yeah, I was just...I, uh…"

"Admired her?" He nods toward the mural.

"...Knew people who, uh, knew her."

"Sure." He scrawls something on a scrap of paper. "Here's her address." He tears the sheet from the book and hands it to me. "Good luck to ya, Kid."

"Thanks. Have a good evening."

I walk up to the address Jordan wrote down for me, the thirteenth floor of one of the apartments that stretches high above the Pit. I knock and, thankfully, Pandora answers. She looks tired, her hands stained with paint and her hair tied up on top of her head.

"Mimette?" She says, cocking her head to the side.

"Just Mimi, remember? May I come in?"

"Of course." She opens the door wider and I step inside. The apartment isn't very large, but very colorfully decorated. Framed paintings and drawings hand on the walls next to photographs of her with other Dauntless. In front of the sliding glass door that leads out onto the balcony is an easel with a large canvas on it. She's painting what appears to be the beginnings of a brightly colored lion, the light pencil sketch showing through where she hasn't yet painted over it.

"I like your painting," I say "Is all of this your art?"

"Yeah. Best thing about being an artist, I gotta say, it makes interior decorating pretty easy. I can just hang my pieces anywhere and people will think I know anything about how to decorate an apartment."

I laugh and sit down on the black couch. She sits down on the coffee table across from me.

"So what brings you?" She asks. "Trouble in paradise already?"

I sigh and put my head in my hands, then when I lift my head it all comes spilling out at once. Everything about the fear sims, about my issues with Four, about the drama with my friends, everything. My head hurts by the time I'm done and Pandora is giving me a look of acute pity.

"Wow," she says. "That's…a lot."

I laugh because I'm just not sure how else to respond. I'm vaguely aware that that isn't an appropriate reaction, but that's all I can do.

She gets to her feet. "How about I make you some tea and you can just relax. We'll watch a movie or something."

I rest my head on one of the couch pillows and stretch my arms over my head, thoroughly exhausted. Going over what happened again in my head I know that it was a stupid argument, and that Tris had every right to be annoyed with me. But they're wrong, I don't think I'm better than everyone else. I don't know how to think that sort of thing; I've never been the best at anything in my life. Even now I'm not the best; not the best fighter, not the bravest, not the most clever, or most determined. I know why Myra did everything she could to stand out, I know what it means to only be sort of okay at everything.

Dauntless was supposed to be the place where that would all change. Where I'd be out of the long shadows cast by my amazing family and incredible friends, a place where I could shine on my own merits. But still I'm just the second best, the first loser. I'll never make it to leadership if I keep letting first place slip through my grasp like this. I'll wind up just another Dauntless, another person lost to the sea of mediocrity.

"I can see the wheels spinning in your head." Pandora takes her seat next to me again and sets two mugs down on the coffee table. "You're thinking too hard about something, aren't you."

"I just wish I was really good at something," I blurt out. "Like really, really good at something. Like you're good at art, and Michael's good at math, and Tris is good at the fear sims, and Will's good at making people laugh."

"You wish you had a niche," she fills in.

"Yeah. A niche." Maybe there is something to be said for Erudite's need to give everything a name. It sure makes it easier to communicate.

She's quiet for a minute, thinking. "What's so wrong with not having one? You can just be, I don't know, eclectic. Learn new things as you go."

"Well it's practically impossible to get anywhere if you don't know what you're good at."

"Impossible, or harder?"

I shrug. "Basically the same thing."

"No. Come on, never in your life have you been afraid of a little challenge before. This seems like the worst time to start."

"But I want to specialize." My voice comes out a little whinnier than I intended. "I want to be really good at one thing, just one."

"Then you should have stayed in Erudite," she says nonchalantly.

I'm taken aback. A pressure builds in my chest and I feel like crying. Maybe I would have been better off there, always in someone else's shadow but safer. Stifled, but surrounded by those who know me best. Here I am free, but that's about all I am.

"Let me tell you something about Dauntless philosophy," she says, her voice a little softer. "Specialization is total horseshit. Giving up after mastering one thing is a pointless and complacent way to live your life. What makes Dauntless as vibrant as it is is that people are trying new things all the time. Everyone's always challenging themselves and pushing each other to the limit. It's hard, but it's worth it. Nobody's just anything, we all have the chance to be everything." She smiles. "Doesn't that sound like so much more of an adventure?"

"Yeah, I guess so. But…I don't know, it's scary. I'm scared."

"I know. I was scared too, scared and embarrassed of not living up to the Erudite standards that had been ingrained in me all my life. But then I got a little older, and I realized that living my life like an Erudite in Dauntless is a pretty shitty way to live. I'll always love my roots, but I can't stand their compulsive need to define everything. You're defined by your work, defined by who you know, defined by the things that in the grand scheme of things don't really matter. I love Dauntless because I'm free to be whoever I want to be, and that changes from day to day. There's no sweat to decide who I am and stick to it."

I turn her words over in my head, and that concept of freedom I have now that I don't know what to do with. I am free to change who I am as often as I change clothes. I can pull off anything so long as I wear it with pride.

The concept is foreign, but comforting. I'm too lost in the forest of my own thoughts to pay much attention to the movie Pandora puts on for us.

"If you want to spend the night here, you're more than welcome." Our mugs lay empty and abandoned on the coffee table and nothing seems more appealing to me than the concept of sleep.

I shake my head. "It's…fine. I should really be getting back."

She grabs my arm as I'm on my way to the door. "Will you just…remember what I said, about it getting better. Try to, at least."

I nod. "Okay."

"Goodnight, Mime– er, Mimi."

I smile. "Goodnight, Pandora."

Dauntless is dark and quiet as I walk back to the dorms, it must be just a little past midnight. Some places in the Pit are still dimly lit, but the nightclub with the strobing lights is quiet and dark. I guess even the Dauntless have to stop partying sometime. I pass Amelie in her studio on the fourth floor as I make my way down. She's stretched out on the hardwood floor looking over a stack of pictures printed on glossy paper. She kicks her legs behind her and hums along to whatever music she's listening to through her headphones. I knock lightly on the glass and she jumps, but softens at the sight of me. I wave and she waves back, shooing me along and mouthing 'Get to bed'.

I continue, hands clasped behind my back and a bit of a spring in my step. Dark as it is, there's something oddly peaceful about Dauntless when it's quiet. My footsteps echo as I walk down the hall. After a minute, I realize that my footsteps aren't the only ones. I pause and listen, hearing the scuff of boots and a noise I haven't heard since Visiting Day – the scrape of high heels on stone.

"So far there haven't been any signs of it," I hear Eric say. He doesn't sound very far from me. He and whoever he's talking to are getting closer. I duck into a little alcove next to a pillar.

So maybe I'm nosey. Sue me.

"Well of course not." Jeanine's voice? What is she doing here? "Combat training shows you nothing. The simulations, however, reveal who the Divergent are, if there are any, of course we will have to examine the footage several times to be sure."

My mouth goes dry. Me. They're talking about me. Well, not me specifically, but even if they don't know it that's me. Why would they be looking for Divergent? Why would they care?

Well, Jeanine did design the Aptitude Test and Divergent seem to fall through the cracks on that; calibration I guess. But why would that be Eric's problem, and why be so secretive about it?

"Don't forget the reason for your standing." She says, her voice ice cold. "You owe everything you are to me and your first priority is always finding them."

"Yes, Dr. Matthews, I know."

I hold my breath as they walk past me. If I wasn't sure it was Jeanine before then I am now, she's so close to my hiding place that I could reach out and touch her. She stops and my eyes widen, fearing the worst; but she's looking at Eric not me.

"Is that so?"

"It is." I see his silhouette straighten a little bit.

"Hmm. Well then I'm sure we have nothing to worry about."

"Of co–" He stops talking when she starts talking again.

"However, I do hope you hold no illusions about your dispensability. In fact, I can think one person in particular who can take your place in a heartbeat."

"I do not. I know what you're capable of." It sounds like an insult, and from the way that Jeanine tenses I think that she takes it as one.

"Good." She starts walking again and I have to resist the urge to breathe a sigh of relief. "I will send one of mine along to check in soon. I trust that you will have everything in order by then?"

"Of course." His voice begins to fade. "I look forward to it."

"Mhm." I can practically hear the eyeroll in her voice. "And what of the…other preparations? Have you and Max decided who's on their way out yet?"

"Um, well I really hate to bring this up again," by the tone of his voice it sounds like he really doesn't, "but why are you so concerned with replacing one of us anyways? You yourself have said that everything's fine as it is."

"No," she stops again, "I said things were acceptable as is, I have always intended to replace the three of them with those more suitable."

"And you think that…" He sighs through his nose. "You think a sixteen-year-old girl throwing around that kind of power won't – I don't know – cause problems?"

"Need I remind you what Erudite has done for you? That we elevated you and everyone else to your current positions? You were just about her age when you joined us and people have had similar doubts about you; but I have, as I always have, moved forward with my plans regardless and have let you keep your position."

"No…I remember…but…all I'm saying is that she doesn't exactly demonstrate the sort of skills necessary for a job like this."

Jeanine turns on him and steps forward, making him step back. "Are you insinuating that myself and the others involved in this decision have chosen an unsuitable candidate?" Her voice holds a dangerous edge to it, and one that I've actually never heard before. Even when she's been upset with my siblings and I in the past she's always been gentle with us.

"No, no, not at all." Yes, he absolutely was. "All I'm saying is that…she's smart, sure, but she's…weak. She's gets attached to petty things, she doesn't handle herself like a Dauntless _at all _. Honestly I'm more worried that the people of Dauntless won't respect her than anything else."

"Then I suppose it will be your job to ensure that they do. She's stronger than you think. She wouldn't have come here if she weren't."

Eric scoffs. "Do you actually believe that or are you just, like...saying that because she's-" Jeanine's silhouette inclines her head and I can feel the whithering glare she's giving him from here.

I want to step out, but then they'll know that I've been listening to their whole conversation. But I have so many questions, and I haven't seen Jeanine in months. If nothing else I'd like to wish her a happy birthday. But the decision is made for me when they walk away. I slip out of the alcove when their footsteps have faded down another hallway completely. What in the world does Jeanine want with Dauntless? And what did she mean about Eric owing everything he is to her?

I'm sure it's none of my concern; politics and city plans that I have no reason to be worried about, but I'm Divergent. Whatever the two of them are planning, it will affect me in some way I'm sure.

There's another thing that I'm sure of: it would be a very, very bad idea to ever tell anyone that I'm Divergent.


	26. Chapter 26: Splinters

I drag myself out of bed at six as per usual with a grimace. Just because I've gotten used to the exhausting days and late nights doesn't mean that I have to like it. Everyone deals with these horrible, horrible simulations in their own ways; Al cries, Tris bites her nails, I don't sleep well. I'm luckier that Christina I guess, when I do get to sleep I sleep like a rock; no nightmares for me, no dreams at all in fact. None that I remember at least, though I do often wake up in a cold sweat.

I scrape my hair back in the mirror, clumsily weaving my hair into a messy braid. God, Four was right; I do look like shit.

This would be so much easier if I had my journal still, something to do just to pass the time and get all these thoughts out of my head.

Christina yawns in greeting, then blinks blearily at me. She rubs her eyes then says, "Have you seen Tris?"

I shake my head. "Is she not in bed?"

"She was asleep when I came back from dinner. Where did you go, anyways? You never showed up."

I shrug in response.

"Mmm, of course, I know that place."

I give up on trying to make my hair look better and brush my teeth. My eyes are practically glazing over as I do.

"Is something wrong?" She asks as she's pinning her hair back. I give her a blank look in response.

Maybe I could stand to be a little nicer, let bygones be bygones and just not bring it up. However, honestly I don't really feel like it. She can think what she wants about Tris, I don't care; and if she wants to fix this herself she can do that. But if she doesn't want to have that conversation than neither do I.

"Okay," she quips. "Fine then."

I leave when I'm done brushing my teeth and getting changed. Usually we wait for each other before heading to breakfast, today I go by myself. If there were anywhere else in the Dining Hall to sit than I might, but our table is familiar so that's where I go. They filter in one by one save for Tris and Al, and the tension between the three of us is palpable. Neither Will, nor Christina, nor I want to be the one to break the silence first. It's clear that Christina doesn't think that she did anything wrong, I don't either, and I don't know what Will thinks. We exchange awkward cursory glances occasionally, but that's the extent of our interaction. Usually we all sit next to each other, with the extra space today there's at least one chair between each of us.

After a while of us, Uriah gets up suddenly to wave across the dining hall. I follow his gaze to a very bruised Tris shuffling in. She drops into one of the chairs next to Will and Uriah leans in between the two of them. None of us say anything for a minute, we just stare at her.

"What happened?" Will asks, his voice just barely above a horrified whisper.

She glances over in the direction of Peter's table where it's just him and Molly. He doesn't seem to notice her glance or our stares that follow hers.

Finally she just mutters, "Peter, Drew…" She curls in on herself a little. "And…and Al."

"Oh god," Christina says, her eyes wide.

"No," I mutter.

"Are you alright?" Uriah asks and I want to snap at him that of course she's not alright, but I manage to keep my mouth shut.

She looks down. "Not really." That's worrisome. Even when she got the living hell beaten out of her by Peter she still wanted to insist that she was fine, fine enough to get up in the middle of the night and play capture the flag.

Tears begin to gather in her eyes and I want to reach out and comfort her, but I'm not sure if she'd want that.

"But…" Uriah presses his lips together. "…that's not fair. You're just…three against one; he can't just?"

"Yeah, and Peter's all about what is and isn't fair," Christina sneers. "That's why he grabbed Edward in the middle of the night and stabbed him in the eye when he came in second at the end of stage one. Because that's just fair." She shakes her head. "But Al…Tris, are you sure."

"Yes," she says. "I'm sure."

"It has to be desperation," Will says. "He's been acting…I don't know. Like a different person. Ever since stage two started."

I know the simulations have been getting to him; we talked about it a couple weeks ago and he all but froze me out.

We all pause when Drew shuffles in. He's in worse shape than Tris, in worse shape than when Peter beat him up. His face is swollen and purple. He has a split lip and a cut running through his eyebrow. He keeps his eyes down on the way to his table, if he's interested to see what kind of damage he caused Tris then he doesn't show it.

"Did you do that?!" Will hisses.

She shakes her head. "No. Someone…someone found me. I – I didn't see…I don't know…But they got to me before…before," her breath hitches but she forces herself to breathe. "Before they threw me into the Chasm.

"They were going to kill you?!" Christina exclaims.

"Maybe. Or maybe they were just trying to scare me. I don't…I…" She trails off, her shoulders trembling.

Christina gives her a sad look, Will just glares at the table like he wants to set it on fire. I put my hand gently on her back and she winces.

I pull back. "Sorry." I glance down at her scraped hands.

"We have to something about this," Uriah says, his voice low like I've never heard it.

"Like what? Beat them up?" Christina wears a dark smile. "Looks like that's already been taken care of.

"No. They can get over that kind of pain. What we have to do is edge them out of the rankings."

"Damage their futures," I say.

He nods. "Permanently."

We don't get to carry on beyond that, Lauren and Four step into the center of all the initiate tables, abruptly killing all conversation.

"Transfers," Four says, "we're gonna be doing something a little different today."

"Dauntless-born," Lauren addresses her initiates, "go to the training room for your morning warm-ups. You'll have a sub today while I deal with the transfers."

"Follow me," Four calls to us transfers.

Uriah frowns, clearly reluctant to leave Tris in our care.

"Don't worry," Will assures him. "We'll protect her."

Christina and Will walk on either side of Tris and I walk behind her, effectively shielding her from any sort of fuckery Peter might try.

"I never really said I was sorry," Will says. "For, uh, for doubting you. That was, um, stupid of me and…and you're our friend and I know you wouldn't do that to us."

"I'm sorry for calling insinuating you weren't smart enough," I chime in. "And about all the diary stuff, and the coward stuff. I, um, I should have thought about how that might have come off before I said it."

"And I'm also sorry," Christina adds. "I could have been a little kinder to you last night. I, uh, I should have been a better friend."

"We all could have been better friends," Tris says. "Let's just…forget about it."

The tension dissolves between us and I think we all collectively breathe a sigh of relief. We climb higher and higher and my heart starts to beat faster. Will keeps looking down every few seconds, his face going white. I remember him mentioning way back at the beginning of stage two that he's afraid of heights. Tris takes his arm and gives him a gentle smile that she returns. My stomach twists into knots and I feel like I'm going to throw up.

Goddamn do I hate heights.

Christina is visibly trembling, holding tight to the railing and breathing heavily. I take her hand and squeeze it. She squeezes back just as hard and looks back at me.

"Are you all afraid of heights?" Tris asks.

"Well I wasn't a couple of months ago," I say. "But yeah, now I am."

"Me always," Will says.

Christina says nothing, she just nods.

"You're not," Will says. "We know that."  
"You do?" She seems surprised.

He snickers. "Did you forget that you climbed the freaking ferris wheel. That's not exactly afraid of heights behavior."

She gives a self-conscious laugh. "I guess not."

Four whips around to face us, walking backward for no reason other than to prove a point I guess. I hope he trips.

"Pick up the pace, Drew!" he calls. Drew is ten steps behind the rest of us, every stair he climbs looking like it hurts him worse.

I have to stop myself from snickering and Tris looks like she's fighting off a smile. Four glares at something and his break in concentration makes him stumble up a step, he doesn't quite fall but it's enough to make me giggle not at all quietly. Christina squeezes my hand again and I put my hand over my mouth but can't quite seem to stop. He shoots me a withering glare as he collects himself.

"Ice Queen," he says in a warning tone.

"Oh, bite me," I retort.

He rolls his eyes and turns back around. I think he's starting to truly believe that I'm hopeless.

We reach the top floor, which has a ceiling made entirely of glass and large windows. I stare out at City Center's skyline, clearly visible from where we are. Even farther in the distance, almost too faint to see, is the brilliant white of Erudite tower. The early morning sun streams in, bathing us all in light for the first time in so long.

"If you're all quite done gawking," Four says, "we're further this way." He leads us through a set of double doors and down a flight of stairs.

"Of course," Will mutters. "God forbid the sun turn us all to dust."

I snicker. Maybe I'd be a little happier about the sight of the glass and the sky, just like I used to see every day in Erudite – where most buildings were made of at least twenty-five percent glass, but in my fear landscape I'm always in a glass case surrounded by the blue sky and bright sun. It's the only one that doesn't ever change, all the others vary in people, location, sometimes even whole scenarios; but that one doesn't for some reason.

The room he leads us into has two doors, the one we came through and another on the other side that leads to still another room that's visible on the other side of the glass. That one is gray concrete lit by harsh fluorescent lights with nothing but a single chair in the middle. The one we stand in now has many chairs; the walls are gray here too, but the room doesn't look quite so harsh.

"On the other side of that glass," Four says, pointing, "is a new kind of fear simulation: the Fear Landscape." I have to stop myself from audibly groaning. "Through your simulations, we have stored data about your worst fears. The fear landscape accesses that data and presents you with a series of virtual obstacles. Some of the obstacles will be fears you previously faced in your simulations. Some may be new fears. The difference is that you are aware, in the fear landscape, that it is a simulation, so you will have all your wits about you as you go through it."

I swear that he makes direct eye contact with me when he mentions that we'll be aware in the Fear Landscape. But what difference does that make? We're aware in every simulation, right? It's a test of our ability to think under pressure, real or imaginary, isn't it?

Or is that what he'd been trying to tell me a few weeks ago, and every day since when he's told me that I've been doing the sims wrong. Why couldn't he have just said that and saved all the arguing? Although, I guess being direct sort of ruins the whole cryptic and mysterious thing he has going.

"The number of fears you will encounter depends on however many you have," he continues. "Over the past three weeks you've gone through them one at a time, when you go through this you will encounter them all."

I swallow a lump in my throat. I scarcely can handle one at a time; how am I supposed to handle all of them at once?

"I told you before that the third stage of initiation focuses on mental preparation," he says. "That is because it requires you to control both your emotions and your body – to combine the physical abilities you learned in stage one with the emotional mastery you learned in stage two. To keep a level head."

'Mastery', okay; like five weeks is enough to master anything. Last time I checked, we're all coming apart at the seams and it will be a miracle if we even make it to stage three.

"On November eleventh – in exactly eleven days – you will all go through your Fear Landscapes as quickly as possible in front of a panel made up of all five Dauntless leaders, Lauren, and I. That will be your final test and stage three in its entirety. Just as stage two of initiation is weighted more heavily than stage one, stage three is weighted heaviest of all. Understood?"

We all nod, the realization of how close we are to this all being over weighing heavily on us. On the one hand, we'll never have to live in such close quarters again and maybe never have to deal with each other again in general; on the other hand, this is our final test and there are only two outcomes, we either pass and become Dauntless hopefully with a decent rank or we fail and become factionless.

And just because I'm number two right now doesn't mean that I can't get cut, that I won't do something fucky in my exam that will get me tossed out or maybe worse.

"You can get past each obstacle in one of two ways. Either you find a way to calm down enough that the simulation registers a normal, steady heartbeat, or you find a way to face your fear, which can force the simulation to move on. One way to face a fear of drowning is to swim deeper, for example. So I suggest that you take the next week to consider your fears and develop strategies to face them."

How would I get around my fears? How do I escape a cage in the sky; how do I fight my own death?

"That doesn't sound fair," Peter's voice interrupts my thoughts and I grimace instinctively. "What if one person only has seven fears and someone else has twenty? That's not their fault."

Four stares at him blankly for a few moments and then laughs. "Do you really want to talk to me about what's fair?"

My friends and I share a laugh at that; even Tris, who clutches her ribs as she does. We shuffle aside as Four steps forward, letting him through our small crowd until he and Peter are less than a foot apart. I'm reminded of our very first day of training when he put a gun to his head.

He folds his head and says in a cold voice, "I understand why you're worried, Peter. The events of last night certainly proved that you are a miserable coward."

I raise my eyebrows. Four knows what happened to Tris? Why hasn't he done anything? With Edward their wasn't enough evidence I guess, but she clearly identified him, and Al, and Drew; so why wasn't that enough?

"So now we all know," he continues, "that you are afraid of a short, skinny girl from Abnegation." He wears a cruel smile.

Will puts his arm around Tris and though I laugh when Christina does something like annoyance builds in my chest.  
Peter has no response to that, and Four doesn't ask for one. It seems that's the end of his little lecture, he sends us along to the training room to do our morning physical training.

When we're dismissed for lunch, thoroughly sweaty and exhausted, Christina hooks her pinky through mine and tugs me away from the crowd toward a side hallway. I think about pulling away, holding onto my annoyance from earlier, but after our group talk this morning that doesn't seem right.

She takes a deep breath when we're sufficiently alone and then says, "I'm sorry."

What?" I say, taken aback. "No, I'm sorry. I was acting like a jerk yesterday. I should have thought more about what I said before I said it."

"I shouldn't have given into Peter's goading, he's always been like that and I should know better than to fall for it."

I take her hands in mine. "We all maybe said some things we didn't really mean to say. The rankings were...a lot."

"I never got to congratulate you and Tris on being the top two."

"That's okay, that's okay. And, for what it's worth, you're doing great. I'm sorry I indirectly called you a coward in trying to insult Peter."

She manages a smile. "No worries. It was kind of a good jab."

"Not worth throwing my friends under the bus though." I pull her into a tight hug.

She presses her face into the crook of my neck and murmurs, "I really care about you."

"I care about you too. I'm really sorry."

"Stop apologizing." She leans her head up and pulls me into a kiss. "Come on, let's go to lunch."

Hand in hand we walk to the dining hall, to our friends' table which has gained Uriah, Lynn, and Marlene but Al's large form is quite the glaring absence. The table doesn't have its usual lively spark either, everyone's just picking at their food.

Marlene looks up when we join them and manages a smile. "Hey, there you two are. We were wondering what happened."

"We just...needed to have a talk," Christina says and then gives my hand a gentle tug. "Come on, Mimi, let's go get some food."

When we return the table is just as quiet despite the best efforts of Uriah and friends. They try their hardest to engage Tris and Will in conversation but can't seem to get more than one word answers out of either of them.

I'm not hungry. If Christina hadn't tugged me away to join her in the lunch line I wouldn't have gotten food at all, seems like a waste. I feel too nauseous to choke down anything but sips of water, and it doesn't help that my eyes keep wandering back to Al's empty chair.

We head back in the direction of the dorms after a very quiet afternoon training and dinner.

Al seems like he's waiting when we enter, sitting on the edge of the bed weaving his fingers together. He stands when we come in and walks toward us. Christina, and I shift protectively in front of Tris before he can get too close. His eyes are red and his cheeks are wet. I'd feel bad about glaring at him if he hadn't done something so awful.

Will turns on his heel and starts to walk toward the door but Christina snags his arm at the last second, through he makes a noise of protest under his breath.  
"Will." Al sounds like he's on the edge of tears. "Will, please just hear me out."

"What?!" He snaps back around. "Literally what, Al?! What could you possibly say to justify this?!"

"I – I…I can't." He lets out a heavy breath. "Tris," he says meekly, "can I talk to you for a second." He glances at the three of us a little nervously. "Alone."

"Are you kidding?!" Will squeezes her shoulder. "You don't ever get to come near her again."

He cringes at the rebuke, staring at us all like a wounded animal. "I won't hurt you. I never wanted to…" He covers his face with his hands and stifles a sob. I feel terrible, but I don't let it show. "I just want to say that I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I don't…I don't know what's wrong with me, I…please forgive me, please…."

He reaches for Tris and she steps back into Will, glaring him down.

"Stay away from me," she says, her voice just barely above a whisper. "If you ever come near me again I swear to god I will kill you, you coward."

He visibly crumples and it tugs at my heart. But when he darts out of the room I don't go after him, I don't even look back at the door as it slams behind us.

We just kind of stand there for a while as the normal goings-on of the dorm room flow around us, silent because there's nothing to say. I feel drained, like I need a good cry and the comfort of my parents or my old friends. They might not be able to understand, but no one knows me better than them; no one would understand like they would. Will breaks the tension first when will lets out a strangled groan and scrubs his hands over his face. I think he's going to start crying but instead he just mumbles incoherently before leaving the room. Christina reaches out to stop him too late and her hand just falls limp at her side.

"I'm gonna go…get some air or something," she mutters before pulling away too.

Tris shuffles to her bunk and I follow. Her eyes fix on Al's bed next to hers and neither of us speak. Her eyelids start to droop and she leans against me. I wait for her to say something, but it never comes.

After a long time steeped in silence I put my hand over hers. "I'll be around if you need me. Just, um, I don't know…shout and I'll be there."

"Thanks, Mimi." She gives me a weary smile and I push myself to my feet.

The first place I go is looking for Pandora. She's the closest I'm going to get to my old life. I make my way to her apartment and knock, then knock again, and a third time but she doesn't answer. More frustrated than I really should be about this inconvenience I huff and feel myself start to cry. Like a child, I long for the comfort and security of my loving family. I want someone to tell me it's all going to be okay, even if they don't really mean it.

I put my hand over my mouth so that don't make a sound and stay like that until I've collected myself enough to go somewhere else. I resign to wandering the back halls, away from people. For a while I must be going in circles, but wallowing in my own misery as I shuffle along but eventually a noise begins to drown out my thoughts. Rushing water. I've made my way back to the Chasm. I move toward the noise, for as much as I hate being there I would kill for some complete quiet.

Bright light streams through the skylight, the sunshine too cheerful for how I feel right now and I've gotten so used to the darkness I have to squint. Slowly, a shape sitting on the bridge comes into focus and my stomach does ugly backflips. My throat locks up and I feel like crying all over again. Al is staring me down from his position on the bridge.

"Mimi." He scrambles to his feet and moves toward me but I take two quick steps back. "Wait, please, don't leave."

I clench my teeth. "I don't want to hear what you have to say to justify yourself, Al!"

"I made a mistake!" Tears well in his eyes again.

"No kidding!" my voice breaks tremendously and I start to hyperventilate.

"Mimi!" he takes another step toward me and I take two back again. He looks wounded by this and hangs his head as his voice softens. "I know that there's nothing I can say that will ever make you forgive me. I get it, I really do. I deserve it."

"I want to know why," I cut him off.

He's quiet for a long time and doesn't meet my eyes. "I was just, you know, starting to think. Maybe Peter was right, maybe Tris is manipulating us. At the very least, number one getting knocked out saved me the first time and maybe it would have worked again." I open my mouth but he keeps talking. "I know how that sounds, I can't make it sound any better. But tell me honestly, if you had the chance to save yourself, wouldn't you? Even if it meant hurting someone else, someone you really care about?"

"No!" I exclaim with disgust. "No, I would never, especially not like that!"

"You say that now." There's a dark look in his eyes. "But you don't know what it's like to be hanging by a thread. It's easy for you to say that when you're number two." He spits out those last two words like they're something horrible.

I gnash my teeth. "No! You're wrong!"

"You don't know what it's like to fail!" he roars, drowning out the water for a split moment.

I have nothing to say that. All I can do is shake my head and start to back away. Al scowls, and looks menacing for a moment but as he starts to cry that image evaporates.

"You don't understand what it's like to never be anything, to always be in someone else's shadow. You don't understand...no one understands."

That insences me. Who is he to say that I don't understand what it's like to fail? Just because I do well here, and even then only in the context of people doing worse, he has no idea the shadows I lived under back in Erudite.

"No, you don't understand!" I shout. He lifts his head, surprised at my reaction. "I have never been the best, not once and neither has Tris! And you don't get to make the excuse that you're threatened by our success because neither of us would have ever, _ever _done that to you! You may have your issues, but we all have our issues and you don't get to deal with yours by threatening the lives of other people, especially not your goddamn friends, you victim-complex-having sociopath!"

"Mimi -"

"I am _not _done!" I snarl. "I'm sorry that you can't get the help you need in Dauntless! I'm sorry this faction sucks so much that we have to try and kill each other to survive! But - but - goddamnit, Al, how could you side with Peter on literally anything?! Do you know what he did to Edward?!" I feel lightheaded from so much yelling, and I scrape the sections of my hair back, giving me a wild look.

"Peter's not the comic book villain you're making him out to be, Mimi. We've got history. But frankly I'm not in any mood to explain anything else to you or anyone." His head is bowed and I can't see his face now, but his shoulders are visibly trembling.

I take a deep breath, trying to bring myself down from my angry hysteria. "Fine." I turn away from him. "Don't come back."

"I won't."


	27. Chapter 27: Deep Water

I barely sleep, I'm up before everyone else and with a pounding headache at that. According to the clock above the door, it's just a little bit before five.

I drag myself out of bed and get in the shower, letting the hot water come close to burning me until I don't feel like beating my head against the wall. My eyes start to glaze over and I get out and get redressed. I stare at my dead eyed reflection in the mirror and then rub my eyes.

In an attempt to make myself look better, I make an attempt at doing my makeup. At least with that done I look a little more alive.

A little.

Not that it will matter, I'll probably ruin it breaking out in a cold sweat or crying during training.

_Four weeks _, I remind myself. _Four more weeks and then I'll never have to deal with any of this ever again _.

I scrape my hair back away from my face and make a half-assed attempt at making myself presentable.

"Mimi," Christina says sweetly behind me.

I smile turning to face her and leaning back against the counter. "Hi."

She steps closer to me and pulls me in for a kiss, wrapping her arms around my waist. I cup her either side of her face and grin when we pull apart.

"Good morning," I say.

She gives me another quick kiss and then lets me go to brush her teeth.

When she's done she says, "Hey, did you see Al this morning? I mean, I know what he did to Tris was awful but it's still weird for him to be up this early in the morning."

"You're right," I say, "That is weird."

I wait for her and then we go to breakfast. No one else is awake yet so we don't bother to wait. We clasp our hands and swing them back and forth as we walk. I find it hard to stop beaming and every time I look at her I want to kiss her again.

"Y'know," She says as we're going through the breakfast line, "we should probably mention to Tris and Will that we're dating at some point."

I shrug. "Yeah, probably." But I don't know if now is really the time for that. They're both so upset about what happened to Al; I don't know if that would come off as inappropriate.

When Uriah approaches us, I let go but Christina doesn't; she squeezes my hand so I squeeze back. He seems distressed and out of breath, having to stop and catch his breath before he speaks.

"Your," he pants, "your friend...he…"

"What?" I say.

"Al...Chasm…"

That's all we need. Christina leaves her food on the ledge in front of the buffet and so do I, precariously as she pulls me away. We run toward the Chasm and find it surrounded by a small crowd. Christina stops dead in the entryway, keeping a vice-like grip on my hand.

I don't know most of the people standing around, but I can pick out Four, Eric, and Max. Christina takes a step back as I step forward. I give her a quizzical look and notice how pale her face looks.

"Chris?" I say gently. "Are you okay?"

She swallows, pulling back but not letting go of my hand. "I...I…"

I step closer to her and put my free hand on her cheek. "You don't want to go near there again, do you?"

She shakes her head.

"You two get out of here." We both start at the sound of Four's voice behind me. "You don't need to see this."

I turn around to face him. "What's wrong?"

"Just go back to the dorms."

"What happened?" I press.

He sighs, looking down at the two of us with a tired look on his face. "Your friend is dead. Jumped, we think."

I'm quiet for a minute, which surely would draw out some remark from him on any other day. Then I manage to choke out, "I'm sorry, what?"

Christina's hand slips from mine, I let go or she did it doesn't matter.

I should start crying; I've cried over less, have I not? I should be doing it more than just standing here, staring blankly at him. I feel nothing; not sick, not sad, not even surprised, I'm just numb.

"Al is dead," he repeats, slowly.

I pause again, trying to think of some appropriate response. How do you respond to being told that your friend is dead? What do you do?  
Apparently, what I do is nod, still staring blankly. "Okay."

Christina is crying, and I should try and comfort her; I should reach out and hold her, say something, do anything but stand here and stare.

I turn my head to look at her, fumbling for something to say. What comes out isn't a word of comfort; just, "We should get the others."

Christina looks up at me, tears shining on her cheeks and then she nods very slowly. When she walks away I'm still standing still, frozen.

"Ice Queen." Four snaps his fingers in front of my face.

"Yes?" I respond, my voice too flat and too far away for it to truly be mine.

He furrows his brow. "Are you going to go?"

I don't respond, I just turn on my heel and walk away; not down the hall toward the dorm but the other way. I don't want to see Tris and Will break down. There's nothing I can do for them, not like this and maybe not at all.

I reach the Pit and nausea washes over me like a wave, grief coming along with it. My headache comes back full force and I don't know what I'm doing here.

If there were ever a good place to sulk it would be the dark halls of Dauntless. So what am I doing out here with all these people?

Excessive emotions and lack of control go hand in hand.

It becomes difficult to breathe; I feel dizzy, and sick, and like I'm about to cry all at the same time. My face feels hot and I can't collect my thoughts.

I'm still walking.

Pacing, maybe. The Pit is circular, if I'm not going up or down then I'm going in circles.

I hate this heat. I long for the cold November chill, the biting wind, anything at all besides the oppressive heat of thousands of bodies together dozens of feet underground.

Like a mass grave.

It's like I'm back in my first fear sim, sweating and on the verge of vomiting; breathing too fast and too close to panic for comfort.

I could leave.

I could walk straight out of Dauntless. Up the stairs, out the doors. I could keep walking until I reach Candor, until I reach Erudite, until I reach Amity, until I reach somewhere where I can _breathe _.

I'm breathing too heavily for someone that's walking and yet it feels like none of it's actually going to my lungs. My body aches for air, for rest. It's too early and I'm too frazzled and -

Belladonna catches me by the shoulders; her grip is tight and I don't think I could get away even if I could figure out how to brush her off, to bring feeling back to my limbs.

"What is your deal? You look like hell in a handbasket."

I want to speak, but I have nothing to say. Even if I did, my throat is too tight and my head hurts too much.

"Mimi, hey." She snaps her fingers in front of my face.

She looks like old pictures of my grandmother, Ruby; same black hair, same strong jaw. I know her about as well too; Grandma Ruby died when I was very young. Had a stroke. I wonder if she knows. I wonder if she cares.

"I-" I manage to stutter out. "I - I don't feel so good."

"Yeah, you don't look so good either; you're white as a sheet."

"Mmm."

She heaves a put-upon sigh. "Come on, let's go."

I don't let her pull me along by the wrist that she takes in her hand, her grip still too strong. "I don't need your help."

"Uh-huh." Her voice is so flat, she tugs me along and I stumble; following along to avoid tripping. I have to put my other hand on her arm to keep my balance at one point, keeping in step with her. She pulls a face, but says nothing.

She doesn't look like my mother; her eyes are too pale, she's too boney, and far too strong. My mother hates her.

Why does my mother hate her?

"Come again?" Her lips twist into a strange grimace, lips pulling back to reveal her straight white teeth, her thick brows furrowed. But something in her eyes seems very distinctly afraid.

"Hm?"

"You said something." Her grip grows almost painfully tight. "I need to know if I heard you right."

Her insistent tone of voice is what compels me to blurt out my question. "Why does my mother hate you?"

"Because she has a raging superiority complex and finds my very existence deeply embarrassing," she says with such a deeply sardonic tone that I can't help but think that that isn't the truth.

I don't reply, my interest in the topic fading as quickly as it arose.

She shoulders open a door and outside the sun is just barely rising. It's freezing cold out here, the wind whipping up around us and blowing Belladonna's black dreads into her face and mine. I take deep breaths, relieved to be able to breathe again. I let go of her, having to pull myself out of her grip and nearly stumbling back in the process. I come away with a red ring around my wrist just like my mother did on Visiting Day. But I don't get much time to contemplate that because I whip around and expel my dinner out onto the gravel.

A hand - Belladonna's - pulls my hair back over my shoulder. Her other hand rubs my back, unexpectedly gentle considering it's her.

I cough and wipe my mouth on my sleeve before standing up straight again.

"Better?" she asks, her voice still that flat, low drawl that makes her sound like she's mocking me.

I nod and she guides me over to sit down against the wall of the compound. I half expected the entire outer side to be painted completely black to keep with the Dauntless aesthetic. Instead it's brick that's ice cold in the late fall air and in some places painted like the art room, some look like they were painted just yesterday others looks like it's been there for years.

I'm still breathing heavily. But at least it feels like I'm actually breathing now. My heart is racing and I don't know why. I tip my head back against the wall and stare blankly up at the pink sky.

_Al _, somewhere in my thoughts is his name. He's dead. What am I supposed to do with that information? I feel like I can't cry and I don't want to anyways, not when other people can see me.

I rub my eyes and push my hair back. Belladonna is watching me very carefully, seeming attentive and curious in equal measure. She's shivering. I guess most Dauntless don't really have much of a reason to go out; the summer-y outfits that I see so often on many of the older Dauntless.

"Do you want to go back inside?" She asks after a while.

_I want to go home _, I think.

I say, "I - I think so."

She gets to her feet and holds her hands out to me. Someone with more pride would get up themselves, but I'm in no mood to try and spare my pride. I take her hands and let her pull me to my feet.

We go back into the dark and she walks me back to the dorm. My eyelids begin to grow heavy and I'm still shivering even though it's not cold.

"Get some rest." She pats my shoulder. "And...if you ever need anything…"

"Thank you, Belladonna," I say, then pause and amend, "Aunt Belladonna."

She pulls a face and then shakes her head a little. "Don't call me that."

She walks away and I open the door to the dormitory; the only ones inside are Will and Christina who are curled up together, both of them look like they've been crying. They look up when I walk in but don't move. I slide in next to Christina and put my arm around her shoulder and lean in to kiss her, but hesitate when I remember that Will is right there. He's watching us rather curiously. I don't bother to explain and I don't have to because Christina talks before he can get a single question out.

"Hey, where'd you go?" She asks. "I figured you'd be right behind me but…"

I shake my head. "Um, for a walk. I ran into my aunt briefly and that was...whatever."

"Your what?" Will asks.

I shrug. "Apparently my mom's little sister transferred to Dauntless. She'd, uh, never mentioned her before but...yeah. How are you guys holding up?"

Will sighs. "Uh...you know." Christina just shrugs in response and I decide not to press them. I lean my head on Christina's shoulder and stare into space. Will leans his head on Christina's other shoulder and she pats the side of his head very lightly as she takes my hand in her free one.

We don't speak for a while, there's nothing to say and it just feels wrong to fall into our usual banter.

But Will eventually picks his head up to say, "Oh by the way, I heard people talking about a memorial this evening. So, uh, yeah..."

I nod but don't offer any other response. How does one respond to being told the planned time of a memorial for their friend? '_ Oh cool _'? ' _I'll be there _'? Yeah, I don't think so.

I watch the clock tick as we sit there, six thirty comes and goes and I assume that training's been cancelled. At least we have that.

Tris doesn't return to the dorms, I don't know where she went and I have no energy to go and find her. I have no energy to go anywhere really; not to Pandora's, not to Amelie's, I don't even know how I would find Belladonna again. I lay my head on Christina's shoulder and Will lays his head on mine. We don't talk, we can't bring ourselves to reminisce about all the good times. There were good times, things went bad at the end but we did…we did like each other, we were friends. I curl in on myself as the memories of fighting with him that last night we talked wash over me. Christina glances down just as I begin to sob, becoming more and more hysterical by the minute. I should have been kinder to him, maybe things would have turned out better if I had. Maybe if we hadn't all rejected him…there had to have been something we could have done. I feel Will wrap his arms around my chest as he starts to shudder and cry as well and Christina follows, bending in and almost draping herself over me.

It's hard to tell how long we sit there, crying, wallowing in our own misery and guilt. But eventually it feels like I have no tears left, and Will has fallen asleep using my side as a pillow.

"You think we'll be okay?" says Christina, her voice breaking.

I take a second do breathe, collecting myself as one would scoop together the pieces of a broken glass. "I don't know."

She wraps her hands around one of mine. "This can't fall apart. I care too much about you, and about Will…and Tris too."

"Yeah." I put my other hand over hers. "Me too."

"You're my best friend, Mimi. I – I care about you."

"I care about you too." I shift, letting Will's head roll onto my stomach and gently run my fingers over his hair. "I care about our friend group." My eyes start to burn again and I feel my throat close. "I – I…"

"Yeah. I know."

She holds me, and I hold Will, and we stay like that for longer than I would have thought possible. I drift off and wake back up more than once on the heels of nightmares I can't remember. But inevitably I'm lulled back to sleep or at least relaxation by the feeling of Will's weight, the warmth of the room, and the smell of Christina's bodywash.

I swear half of Dauntless must have turned up for this funeral. The Pit is more packed then I've ever seen it. I stand on the top floor, scanning for my friends. I left them a while ago to go get some coffee, to do something other than sit in bed. But this time there was no Lynn to pull me out of my own wallowing, there was no Marlene to distract me. I was alone.

I don't find my friends but shuffle down into the crowd anyways. I'll run into them or I won't. I drift aimlessly for a while until I wind up near the railing that overlooks the Chasm. I stare down at the churning water until I feel a pair of hands clap on my shoulders and jump about a foot in the air.

"It's just me," Christina says, attempting a laugh but it falls flat. Her eyes are still red from crying and she seems more drawn in on herself than I've ever seen her before. "I've been looking everywhere for you." She pulls me in for a kiss that I happily return.

"Should we go find the others?" I ask when we separate again.

"I don't think we're in any hurry." She kisses me again.

It feels wrong to be doing this at Al's funeral, to be happy in any capacity with him gone so recently. Our relationship is so new, and has happened almost concurrently with this tragedy and I don't know if that should matter to me or not.

If it does matter to me or not.

But eventually, we do go look for the others, our hands clasped tightly as we make our way through the crowd. We eventually find Will alone looking awkward as his eyes scan back and forth across the crowd before finally landing on us. He smiles halfheartedly and approaches, all but wrapping us up in a hug.

"How are you guys holding up?" He asks.

"I am," Christina says very flatly as I just shrug.

"And you?" I ask.

He chuckles but it's undercut by bitterness. "Oh, you know, one of my closest friends has just killed himself and I can't stop thinking about what I could have done to help him and all the ways that I could have been there for him, so that's literally killing me." He puts one hand over his face, breathing heavily and I think I see him blink away tears. "I'm sorry."

"It's…" I let go of Christina's hand to hug him. I don't want to tell him that it's okay because it's not, and I don't want to tell him that it's going to be okay because that doesn't matter right now – that doesn't fix anything. He wheezes, pressing his face into my shoulder and his arms are wrapped tight around me. Christina joins us and just when I think we're about to fall apart all over again, Uriah comes over.

"Hey." His voice has gone flat too. I didn't think it was possible for him to sound so uncheerful.

"Hey," Christina greets him.

"I'm not interrupting, am I?"

"God no." I let go of them both. "Best that you got here before any of us got the chance to start crying again."

It's a joke that only Will offers a halfhearted laugh at and I know that's because he's the only one who truly understands my whole thing about crying, especially in front of other people.

"I think I have something that might cheer you up a little." He pulls a flask from his back pocket and holds it out to us.

Will is the first to take it from him and uncap it to take a long drink. When he's done he says, "Hmm. Nope. Still feel like shit. A valiant effort though." He looks between Christina and I. "You two?"

I take it from him and don't take nearly as long of a drink as he did. The liquid doesn't taste great and burns the back of my throat something awful; I have to genuinely try not to spit it out. I pass it to Christina without comment and she also takes a drink, passing it back to Uriah before leaning her head on my shoulder and heaving a heavy sigh. I take her hand in mine and gives it a gentle squeeze that she just barely returns.

"Look," Uriah says after a moment of hesitation. "I – I didn't know, um, Al that well; but I know he was your friend. And I'm sorry, a-about everything that's happened to him and to you guys."

"I think we're all sorry," Christina says.

Her words hang in the air between us until Tris walks up. I haven't seen her all day, but it seems like she's faring a little better than the rest of us. When Uriah offers her whatever's left in that flask of his, she shakes her head.

"Surprise, surprise," Molly says behind her and I almost want to groan in annoyance. She nudges Peter with her elbow, snickering. "Once a Stiff always a Stiff, eh?" There's a slur to her voice and a sluggishness to the way that she moves. She's drunk.

I lean my head on top of Christina's, wanting very badly to squeeze my eyes shut as that headache I've had on and off all day begins to thrum again. A petty fight is really the last thing we need, I think.

Whatever she mutters in Tris' ear, that I might have heard had I been paying attention, makes her angry enough to whip around and punch her in the jaw. She stumbles back, swearing, and then lunges back at her. But before she can start an all-out brawl, Will grabs her by the back of her shirt.

"Quit it," he snaps. "Both of you."

I almost expect them both to protest, but a particularly frigid glare from him is all that it takes to send Molly and Peter both slinking away. Part of me wonders if even they feel enough sympathy in their cold, black pits where their hearts should be to not torment on a day like today.

The part of me that knows better knows that I'm giving them _way _too much credit.

"Quiet down, everyone!" Eric shouts into a microphone as he climbs up onto a platform I can't see.

I didn't think that there was someone's voice that I wanted to hear less than Molly's or Peter's. I guess the universe just loves proving me wrong.

This is the first time I've seen him since I overheard his conversation with Jeanine. I still don't know what that was about. Frankly, I don't even think I care.

"Thank you." He says as the majority of the talking dies down. "As you know, we're here because Albert, an initiate, jumped into the chasm last night." That kills the rest of the talking, the only sound left is the roar of the Chasm.

"We don't know why," he continues, "and it would be easy to mourn the loss of him tonight. But we did not choose a life of ease when we became Dauntless. And the truth of it is…" He smiles. He never knew Al beyond a target, someone to torment. He is the last person who should be delivering this speech. "The truth is, Albert is now exploring an unknown, uncertain place. He leaped into vicious waters to get there. Who among us is brave enough to venture into that darkness without knowing what lies beyond it? Albert was not yet one of our members, but we can be assured that he was one of our bravest!"

Most of the crowd cries out in a cheer, my jaw drops slightly but no sound comes out. That was the last thing I was really expecting him to say. Christina takes the flask from Uriah again and drinks, Will slides his arm around Christina's shoulders and I feel a weird pang of jealousy. He's done that a thousand times but that's the first time it's bothered me. Our eyes meet over her head and then I pluck the flask from her hand and drain the rest of the contents.

"We will celebrate him now, and remember him always!" Eric yells. Someone hands him a bottle that he lifts above his head. "To Albert the Courageous!"

It sounds insincere coming from him; pretty words that don't mean anything. I wouldn't be surprised if that speech came from a template he looked up.

"To Albert!" shouts the crowd. I join in as they chant his name, feeling no great emotion toward this one way or another. I don't know what I expected out of a Dauntless memorial; solemn remembrance? That doesn't exactly sound very Dauntless to me.

Tris storms off at some point, and it vaguely occurs to me to follow her but I don't. I stand there instead; mine and Christina's hands clasped tight and Will's arm around her shoulders, his fingers brushing me every so often.

We chant, and chant, and chant until eventually our voices fizzle. The conversations start up again, even Will manages to strike up a conversation about something that has nothing to do with how much things suck or initiation – a rarity seemingly. Uriah tells us about the second part of a Dauntless funeral, where the body is burned in front on an open air pyre in front of the deceased's closest friends and family. I wonder aloud what they'll do with the ashes.

"Oh that's the cool bit," Uriah says. "In the ashes sometimes there's fragments of bone and stuff and all of that is given to the family to keep. My family has a piece of my dad's skull on the mantle."

Will and I both recoil at that, appalled. In Erudite, death is something clean. The body is taken from the family to a morgue where it is analyzed. It's common for people to choose to donate their bodies to science to be used in the medical school. Those that don't are destroyed in a vat of acid. Either way the result is the same, you get the death certificate and file it away and then arrange for an epitaph to be installed on a grave wall. My grandparents died like this, and theirs before them, and theirs before them. Never, _never _would we dream of doing something as messy and potentially disgusting as setting a human corpse on fire in front of an audience.

"Are you guys okay?" Uriah gives us a quizzical look, confused by our reaction. I also notice that Christina looks pretty horrified.

Will is the first to shrug it off. "Culture shock. Where are they holding this?"

"I'll show you guys after we're done here."

"I need another drink." Will plucks the flask for Uriah's fingers.

The rest of the wake is I guess what passes for dull in Dauntless. Will gets increasingly drunk as the evening wears on until finally Uriah leads us out of the crowd and up the stairs to the surface. Suddenly I feel like vomiting again, and I don't know if that's because of the alcohol or because I don't want to see the burning of a body.

But don't I owe to Al and to my faction to immerse myself in all aspects of life here? Al died feeling like he wasn't Dauntless enough, he deserves to be celebrated in the most Dauntless way possible. The last thing I ever said to him was not to come back and he jumped off the same bridge we had our argument on. How long after I walked away did he jump? Minutes? Hours? Would things have been different if I'd received him with more kindness, tried to understand where he was coming from?

Marlene and Lynn catch up with us, Tris fails to reappear though. We all walk a couple of blocks, through this part of town I've never been to. Finally we reach a humble structure in a clearing, where there's no concrete. It looks like an abandoned lot. Save for, of course, the benches arranged in concentric semicircles at the furthest end is a concrete structure about the size of a person, a slab with the middle, head, and foot cut out.

"Someone should go back and try to find Tris again," Uriah says as we take our seats. "She should be here."

"Well I understand why she wouldn't want to," Lynn cuts in. "Let her have her own way of grieving."

I don't expect anyone else to turn up, Al was just an initiate. But slowly more and more people trickle in, other initiates both Dauntless-born and transfer. Pandora startles me when she wraps her arms around me from behind and takes a seat next to me with one arm still around my shoulder. There aren't as many drunk people here, but the ones that are are solemn. At the edge of my vision I see three familiar forms. Peter, Molly, and Drew. Molly looks hammered, evidenced by the way she clings to Drew to keep herself upright. I would expect Peter to look like the smug bastard that he is. He put Al up to everything, he is responsible for the position that we're in now. But he ducks his head, and keeps his eyes on the ground, and looks distinctly like he's going to puke.

I watch them until music starts to play from unseen speakers. A soft ballad, but a recognizable one. It's a popular song, and I remember Al telling me once that it was one of his favorites. I don't have to process that startling homage because I'm distracted by a procession of people clothed in flowing black gossamer holding long, thick sticks. The middle of the procession is carrying a wooden slab between them and on that slab, surrounded by flowers, herbs, and other aromatics, is Al. I turn away, burying my head in Pandora's shoulder as my throat closes. She wraps her other arm around me, holding me tight.

"Look up," she whispers.

The slab is lowered into that concrete structure and the people in robes all move to stand behind this pyre except for one. She stands in front of it. She's holding a lighter.

"Friends," says the woman, "family of the deceased, welcome. I recognize the faces of many initiates in the crowd, for some of you this may be your first burning. The boy that we have here, Albert Jackson, was never given the chance to integrate himself within our community. He did not yet know all of the intricacies and beauty that he was getting into. We are gathered here today because of tragedy, because this boy took his own life." For a moment, there's a mournful look on her face like she feels my grief. "In a perfect world, what happened today would never have to happen. But it does. Death comes. It is not always fair, not always just, not poetic or beautiful. I know there are some of you with us today who feel they never got to say goodbye to Albert, some may have never even said hello. When someone leaves our life, their exits are not always what we want. Some are abrupt, unfair, clumsy. As life is not fair, knows no inherent justice, neither does death. But in the interim between birth and death we are given a gift, a gentle reprieve in which we are free to choose for ourselves. We call this life. Life is beautiful, life is to be celebrated; and Dauntless would argue that death is too. It is the one thing that unites humanity, we all must die. But while we're here we create something truly beautiful, and we add something to the world in which we live. In the end our passing is the final period on the story that we write. We do not have to be afraid of the dark, for it is in our passing that we are truly completed. Today we celebrate life, and we celebrate death, and we honor dear Albert. Let us rise." Everyone stands. There are tears running down my face and I'm squeezing Pandora as hard as I can. Will and Christina are holding each other. Uriah, Lynn, and Marlene have their hands clasped and Uriah is muttering quietly to himself. "Would any members of the community like to speak about how they knew Albert and the impact he left on their life?"

If I wasn't crying so hard, maybe I could muster a few words about my friend. I didn't know him for very long, but he was the teddy bear of our group. The soft one. Always there to comfort and bring cheer. He was a piece of us, and he always will be.

No one steps up, and the tragedy of that is enough to draw another wracking sob from me.

"Would those close to Al please come to the pyre."

"Go," Pandora whispers in my ear and pushes me forward. Christina and Will come to and, to my shock and horror, Peter.

The woman gives us all a gentle look. We're all handed those sticks by the other people in robes. Up close I notice that they're wrapped in cloth and smell strongly of gasoline. With horror I realize that it's an unlit torch. I am not merely watching my friend burn, but I will be the one to set the flame alight.

I almost drop my torch and run back into the crowd. Will, Christina, and Peter all look equally nervous.

"May Albert find rest," says the woman with the lighter, "in whatever comes next." She lights Peter's torch, then Will's, then Christina's, and then mine. The heat makes me flinch and I feel inclined to hold it as far away from me as possible.

"Whenever you are ready to let go." The lead woman and all the people in robes step away, leaving just the four of us. How do I explain that I'm not? I'm not ready to let go of him yet. I want my friend back, I want everything to be right with the world.

"Ready?" Peter mutters, looking to us.

I want to scream. No, no, I'm not and I'm certainly not inclined to listen to him on anything. Especially not this.

He looks down at the body and whispers something that I don't hear. In clumsy not quite unison the four of us lower our torches to the wood underneath Al and together we watch our friend go up in flames.


	28. Chapter 28: Sharper Edges

To my surprise and pretty much everyone else's we're given another day off. The other initiates, who didn't know Al like we did take it with joy. Rumi and some of the others come over briefly to offer their condolences, but leave just as quickly. Christina, Will, and I toss around and shift trying to get comfortable after being pulled out of sleep by instinct. Tris is sleeping sprawled out with her face buried in her pillow and I wonder how she keeps from suffocating herself.

When I wake up the next time, the clock reads ten and Will is gone. Last night the three of us fell asleep on my bed. Tris never came to join us. Christina is buried in my shoulder and her arms are wrapped around my waist. I try to sit up without waking her but it's to no avail.

"Mimi?" she mutters.

"Yeah?" I weave my fingers into her hair and give her temple a tender kiss.

She starts to speak but stops, groaning and starting to squirm again. She whispers, "Oh shit."

"What is it?"

"I just remembered." I don't even have to ask. The moments between waking up and fully becoming alert where we don't quite remember that he's gone. Then the ache sets in and everything starts all over again.

We hold each other for a long time until she gets squirmy again, muttering about having to get up.

"Do we?" I lazily prop my head up as she rifles through the basket underneath her bed for something to change into.

"I'm sick of my own thoughts," she replies. "If I don't do something soon, I think I might actually go insane." She yanks a wrinkled black t-shirt out of the pile of other wrinkled black t-shirts "Come on, let's go do what we always do and walk around the Pit."

I sigh, burying my head in my arms in protest of getting up. Tris is in a similar state, though unbothered by Christina's activity. She tosses and turns, but is still blissfully able to sleep.

"Mimi, please." She grabs my arm, giving me a look I know I can't say no to.

I sigh in defeat and push myself into a sitting position. She manages a smile at that and waits for me to dress before we head off to face the day together.

Neither of us are really in any mood to actually do anything fun. She holds my hand as we walk in spirals up and down, peering into shops and studios. I point out Amelie's place and she tells me that when she was a kid she wanted to be a dancer. I tell her she still can. She just shrugs in response to that.

"Do you think it was a good idea to leave Will and Tris alone?" I wonder aloud.

She shrugs. "I couldn't stay in that room any longer, it was...too much. And I really didn't want to be alone either."

"Mimi!" a voice calls, interrupting our conversation. We turn to see Pandora weaving her way through the crowd. I'm about to respond but she bodily throws herself at me and wraps me in a tight hug, separating me from Christina as I stumble.

"I heard about what happened," she mutters. "I should have been there for you yesterday. I'm so sorry. I've been looking for you everywhere." She leans back a little to get a proper look at my face. "How are you doing? I know you're not okay. Do you want to come back to my place and we can talk it out?" Finally, she seems to notice Christina. "Oh, am I interrupting?"

"No." I let go of her. "We were just out for a walk."

"Let me take you girls out for a cup of tea. It doesn't seem right to leave you like this."

"Maybe I should just go back to the dorms," Christina says. "Mimi, I'm sure you'd like some time alone with your sister."

"Absolutely not," Pandora says. "I want to make sure _both _of you are okay. Christina, you're my sister now too." Christina and I both blush. "Anyone precious to Mimi is precious to me."

She takes us to the top level of the Pit and then further up a spiraling staircase to a cafe with a perfect view of the vast morning sky. Having the sun on my face, even through glass, I'll admit it does make me feel marginally better.

Outside the fence, past the Amity farms, past the wind and solar farms, there's a telescope and observatory. I went out there once my school and my mom's cousin Atoinette works there. There are maps of constellations on the walls and posters depicting distant planets. That's what this cafe reminds me of, and it must be on purpose because it's called Urania's.

Once we've ordered our drinks, Pandora sits us down and with a level gaze says, "It's okay if you don't want to talk. I just want to know that you're going to be okay."

"Yep," Christina forces out. "E-eventually...I think." I nod in agreement.

That seems to please her and she doesn't press us anymore, we sit in silence for a while drinking our teas. Just seeing my sister across from me makes me feel better, honestly, even though we aren't talking. As I drain my cup I lean my head on Christina's shoulder and she nuzzles her head against mine.

"We should probably go check on Tris and Will," she says after a while, "make sure that they're doing okay and stuff."

Pandora nods. "You two go and do that then. Make sure they're alright, and you can all come by my apartment and I can cook you dinner tonight if you don't feel like eating in the hall."

"Thank you, Dora." I manage a smile for her.

She smiles back. "Always." When we stand she opens her arms to me and we share a long hug, but as we're turning away she stops us. "Christina, I know you want one too."

Christina, to my surprise, throws herself into Pandora's embrace and shudders. Pandora holds her tight and mutters something to her that I don't catch. I hear Christina sniffle and rest her head on Pandora's shoulder for a long moment before they finally part. Christina wipes her eyes and then takes my hand. I don't ask what Pandora said to her, I don't think that's for me to know.

Will is sitting on Tris' bed in the dorms, talking idly at her as she lays there facing the wall. He brightens when he sees us and shakes Tris' shoulder to get her attention.

"Guys!" he tries to sound excited but his voice comes out a little flat. "Hey, where did you go?"

"For drinks with Mimi's sister, you should meet her some time," Christina says.

"Tris?" I put my hand on her back, she's still facing away from us. "Are you okay?"

She mumbles incoherently and pushes my hand away.

"She's been like this all day," Will explains. "I've been trying to coax her out of bed but...well…" he gestures to her.

"Everyone deals with grief differently." Christina puts her hand in the one Will used to gesture.

Tris mumbles again.

"What was that?" We all lean in close to hear her better.

"I'm not sad!" She sounds frustrated and sits bolt upright with a fire in her eyes. "He tried to kill me! Why would I be sad that he decided to jump the consequences of his actions and kill himself?!"

"He was our friend!" Will exclaims, squeezing Christina's hand hard and gritting his teeth.

"I'm your friend!" she fires back. "And he colluded with Peter to try and throw me into the Chasm! How can you feel bad for him after that?!"

He scowls. "I don't - that's not - I'm not saying... I just miss him, okay?! And frankly I can't believe you don't!"

"I never said that, Will!" People are staring. Drew and Molly are staring especially and whispering to one another.

"Didn't you kind of?! You basically said that we shouldn't miss him because of what he did to you! You didn't come to the funeral, you haven't been wanting to talk about what's going on with you, it's like you want to forget Al ever existed!"

She makes a frustrated noise. "He was my friend too!"

A hand taps me on the shoulder and when I turn around Uriah is there with Lynn and Marlene in tow. All four of us stop to take a breath.

"Hey," Uriah says softly, "we came to check on you guys. Glad we did."

Will exhales and runs his fingers through his already messy hair. "God, how much of that did you guys hear?"

"I think pretty much everyone heard pretty much all of it," Lynn says but gives us a pitying look as she says it.

"Do you guys want to go do something?" Marlene offers. "I showed Mimi this great arcade like a week ago. We could go there."

"You guys sound like you need to talk," Uriah says. "Let's go get a drink and talk it out."

"Actually, I think they should probably let off some steam so they aren't at each other's throats."

Tris lets out a long sigh. "You know...I think letting off some steam sounds pretty good to me."

We walk to the training room in silence, tension hanging between us all. Marlene and Uriah both make valiant attempts at trying to spark conversation but to no avail as we all seem bent on wallowing in our own private miseries. The training room is unlocked, luckily, and as soon as we're inside Christina's hand breaks from mine and she takes off sprinting around the track that lines the room. Tris moves toward the hanging punching bags without even bothering to wrap her hands first. Will and I stand still for a while until Marlene tries to talk to me. Then I abruptly move toward the table where the knives have been laying out. I can't believe no one puts these away. Out of the corner of my eye I see Will move to sit against a pillar between the punching bags. He sinks down with his back against the wall and curls in on himself. But then Uriah is standing over him. He says something I don't quite hear and then helps Will to his feet again. He wraps his arm over his shoulders and the two leave the room.

"Hey." She puts her hand on my shoulder. "Mimi, are you sure it's a good idea to be handling weapons when you're...like this?"

I know what she's getting at, but right now it just makes me angry even though I don't fully understand why. "Are you saying I'm too emotional to do the one thing Lynn suggested?!"

"Woah." She puts her hands up. "All I'm saying is that maybe it's not a good idea for you to be tossing around sharp objects when you're not at the top of your game." She touches my wrist, my hand had unconsciously tightened around the knife so hard it hurt.

I grit my teeth. "I'm fine. Leave me alone."

"No."

"What do you mean 'no'?" My brows knit together into a scowl.

She gives me a look as her fingers tighten around my wrist, worming their way into my grip. "No."

"I'm fine." I jerk away from her and flip the blade in my grip before letting it fly toward the target. It lands dead center, but in my determination to prove myself I wasn't being careful and a gash opens up on my hand.

"Ah, fuck!" I scream, pulling my hand close to my chest and squeezing my eyes shut as tears well up in them.

"Mimi!" Marlene exclaims, rushing to my side her arm drapes around my back and she puts her hand over mine.

I gasp for breath through the searing pain as blood leaks everywhere; down my shirt, on my skin, underneath my nails. It reminds me of the simulations.

"Come on," Marlene's breath is right on my ear. "Let's get you to the infirmary."

Tears leak down my face. I make a fist in a feeble attempt to put some pressure on the wound, my thoughts too incoherent to actually consider whether or not it's working. Marlene is guiding me out of the room. We pass Will and Uriah in the hallway and Will startles at the sight of me but something Marlene says keeps him away from us. I just focus on not screaming. But I'm in the kind of pain where I feel like I'm either going to throw up or pass out, maybe both.

We walk to the infirmary, a place I've become embarrassingly familiar with and this is no exception.

"Mimi." Phyllis looks disappointed to see me. "Oh dear. Come here." She puts her hand on my shoulder to guide me to one of the cots. "Oh, this is going to need stitches. How did you even do this?"

"We were blowing off steam in the training room," Marlene offers. "She messed up throwing a knife."

"Oh dear." She dips a cloth in a clear solution. "Okay, Mimi, I need you take a deep breath for me. This is going to sting."

It's hard not to pull away as she cleans my wound with the antiseptic wipe, not to flinch at the sharp pain. Some Dauntless warrior I am.

"I know that boy was your friend," Phyllis says after a long silence. "Is that what this is about?"

"What?" I give her an astonished look.

"Are you taking care of yourself? You look tired."

I am tired. "I'm fine." I can't even look her in the eyes when I say it.

"There's no shame in asking for help, you know. There are quite a few good therapists I could recommend for you. It's very common for young people to seek therapy after initiation."

"And you don't think that might imply that there's something seriously wrong with initiation?" I raise my eyebrow.

She makes a noise of annoyance. "Oh, don't get me started on initiation. I have complained time and time again that the changes made by Eric Coulter and the amount of people who wind up in my infirmary are no good for Dauntless but do they listen? No." She mutters, "Where's the respect for the medical staff when we're telling them that they're decisions are stupid ones?" She rolls her eyes. "Point is, Mimi, there's no shame in seeking help." She uses a q-tip to apply a salve that causes me to lose feeling in my fingers and then my palm. "These should dissolve after a week." Then the threaded needle pierces my skin, I expect immediate pain but instead there's just a distant throb. Phyllis' hands are steady and neat as she stitches me up, talking little but Marlene fills the silence with talk of movies and things that make me laugh.

When we get out of here, I swear to god the first thing we all do together is take Tris to a movie theatre.

Try as she might though - try as Uriah, Lynn, and Marlene all might - the cloud of grief and other bad feelings doesn't lift. I go to bed feeling miserable and with my hand dully aching. I toss and turn for what must be hours, and what feels like years before finally - mercifully - drifting off.


	29. Chapter 29: Burned Out

I wake up the next morning to the horrible sound of everyone moving around and talking much too loudly. Christina, who never left my bed I guess, screams through her teeth and throws her limbs and face into me in an attempt to escape the noise. As soon as my eyes are fully open I realize just how tired I really am. I feel like my flesh and bone has been replaced with lead overnight, and the idea of sleeping for several more hours is so tempting that my eyes drop and my muscles relax again despite the din of the other initiates. It all seems to muffle as I'm pulled back into sleep anyways.

Vaguely, though my mental fog, I wonder where Will got off to.

At seven, I've missed breakfast and am late for training. Christina is in the process of pulling on a shirt and she makes the process look arduous.

She mutters something that sounds a lot like my name, and I just groan in response.

"Have to go. Already late."

"Don't care." I try to roll over and in the process scrape my face against the rough stone. "Don't wait up."

"Yeah, Mimi, you really do care. I know you." She huffs. "And there's no way I'm dealing with training alone today. I have no idea where Tris and Will are."

"Hang with someone else." I fumble for my pillow, and then recall that I'm sleeping on the wrong end of the bed.

The sigh she lets out is mixed with a sob. "Like who?"

"Like…" Right. One of my arms shoots out with its contorted position underneath me, I push up on my bad hand and swear, holding the hand against my chest. When it ebbs I look up at her. "What do you mean Tris and Will are gone?"

"I mean gone. I can't find them anywhere, and then I had to come get you up, and now we're going to be late for training, and - and -" her breathing is hard and she sounds like she's about to cry. She gives me a mournful look that breaks my heart. "It's been a hard morning."

I put my good hand over hers and try at a comforting smile. "Okay. I know. Just breathe."

We take a second to breathe together in the silence of the room, then I start to get up to face the day. I rub my eyes and try to ignore the nagging voice to go back to bed. Every moment of peace of mind I get is immediately undercut by the image of Al being dragged out of the chasm, or the last words we exchanged, or - somehow even worse - a good moment that we shared.

_It's not fair _, I think. _This isn't fair! _I'm not even sure what I mean by that; that Al's life was cut short, that he betrayed us like that, that the only reason we even wound up in this terrible situation was because of the hell that Dauntless is putting us through. None of it is fair I suppose. It's suffering for the sake of making us suffer; this isn't even about bravery anymore it's just about making us hurt.

Rage wells up within me. At Dauntless for designing training this way, at Four and Eric for always being so hard on us, at myself for not dealing with it better and not being there for my friend. Just rage for the sake of rage, directed at nothing and at everything. It chokes; I want to scream and cry and destroy everything around me.

"Mimi." Christina puts her hands on my shoulders. I am still knelt down over my laundry basket. "You're shaking."

I throw myself into her arms, allowing myself to indulge in my emotions because it's her. I clench my teeth hard and scream, coming unglued again after trying to be strong for her. She's already having a hard morning and now I'm breaking down on her too. She wraps her arms tight around me and we cry together, tears of anger and tears of grief.

"Come on," she says after a minute of collecting herself. "We've gotta go. We're super late now."

I sniffle. "Yeah." Throwing on some new, probably clean clothes before we make our way to the training room.

"You two are late," Four says without looking at us the moment we walk in. "That'll be ten laps, one for each minute."

"Seriously?" Christina mutters to me.

I want to tell him off, if for no other reason than I need something to take this anger in me out on. I want to demand to know why he's so hard on us. But instead I start on a slow jog, keeping my head down as I pass Four so he can't take notice of the fact that I've been crying. The last thing I need right now is for him to make some kind of snide comment.

A cloud of tension seems to hang over the room all morning. No one really talks or jokes. It's hard to lighten things up when this is our first day back after one of our classmates killed himself.

All except for Peter, who seems to have no problem talking incessantly, seemingly unable to read the room. It's hard not to feel angry at him just for existing in this space after what he did to Al, what he did to Edward. How can he live with himself? How can he still show his face around here after everything he's done?

Tris is with us now, still beating down on that punching bag. I try to stick to anything that doesn't require me to use my bad hand, which is basically just running and stretches. No surprise, after a while Four comes to bother me again.

"So are you going to actually do anything today or are you just going to be lazy and miserable?" He crosses his arms.

I scowl and say through gritted teeth, "I'm injured."

"Yeah, I heard you were being stupid around the knives."

I tell myself I'm not going to snap at him, that I'm not going to yell. I'm just going to keep my head down and endure however many weeks we have left.

"Shouldn't you know by now that breaking the rules will never end well for you? Don't you think you're smart?"

I just grunt in response.

"Oh come on, you knew you were breaking the rules with your diary. Stop being petulant."

"Leave me alone."

"Stop acting so spoiled, Ice Queen. This isn't Erudite."

I huff and look him in the eyes. "Leave me alone, _please _."

He furrows his brow. "See me after training. We need to have a talk."

I don't respond as he walks away.

"Ooh, someone's in trouble," says Peter, extremely petulantly. "Get caught breaking rules again, Ice Queen?"

"Not now, Peter." I get to my feet and move toward the track but Peter's voice follows me.

"Aren't you up for a little '_ friendly competition' _? You'll never stop being first loser by slacking."

At that my mind goes blank, all thoughts of keeping my head down and just making it through the day vanish. I whip around and swing, not thinking about my form or a plan. To my surprise, it connects with his jaw and he goes tumbling to the ground with a grunt of shock.

"I said leave me the _fuck _alone!" I snarl.

Peter looks up at me, blood trickling from his mouth. "It feels better, doesn't it?" He starts to get to his feet and I move to pin him to the ground, still with no plan and nothing but the sound of blood roaring in my ears.

Suddenly, a hand snags the back of my shirt and stops me in my tracks. I start to struggle but a strong hand grabs my wrist and jerks me away from Peter. I turn to see Four, a frown seared into his face as he holds me without much effort.

"What do you think you're doing? What is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me?!" If me punching Peter didn't get people's attention, then me screaming at Four sure did. The training room comes to a standstill but I'm not really paying attention. No, now I'm all but seeing red and all of that rage narrows in on Four. "What's wrong with you?! You make us torment each other day in and day out, torture us yourself with the fear simulations, your curriculum is so hard it almost leads to the murder of one initiate and the successful suicide of another! How is this bravery?! How is this anything but brutality?! How can you do this to us, how dare you!" He scowls and opens his mouth as I jerk my arm down, breaking his grip on my wrist exactly the way he taught me to. "Don't fucking touch me." Tears are openly streaming down my face now. I feel lightheaded and out of my own body. I start to weep, and unable to control myself or recover my composure I leave the room.

I throw open the door to the transfer dormitory expecting it to be completely empty. Not for Will to jump a foot in the air and see me in the wretched state I'm in. There's a book in his lap, but he abandons it to get up and meet me at the door.

"Mimi!" he exclaims. "Oh my god, are you okay?"

I shrug and he puts his arm around my shoulders, guiding me to sit down. For a long time we just sit there, me curled against him trying my hardest not to openly scream in rage and grief.

"Where were you this morning?" I say when I've finally stopped seething and crying. "Christina's been worried sick."

He sighs. "I didn't feel like going to training, and I didn't want anyone to know so I just sat in a hallway until everyone was gone. I'm sorry to have worried you guys." He leans his head against mine. "What happened to you? It's not like you to ditch training."

"I got into it with Four and Peter," I mutter.

A small laugh leaves his throat. "Again?" He shakes his head. "Mimi…"

"I just…I lost control. Peter was pissing me off and after everything that's happened I've just got no patience left. I had to do something."

"What did you do?"

"I punched him."

He's quiet for a long time before finally he says, "Nice."

"I thought so too. Though Four seemed to disagree."

He snorts. "Yeah, the guy that put a gun to Peter's head on the first day suddenly cares about his well-being. That's rich."

"Isn't it? Remember when Edward got stabbed in the eye and he did nothing? We all know it was Peter. If this were any other faction there would have been an investigation."

"Who are we kidding?" Will spits. "If this were any other faction none of this would have even happened." He scrubs his hands over his face. "Oh my god, what are we even doing here? I should have just stayed in Erudite. I don't...I don't even know why I left."

"Neither do I," I say hesitantly. Maybe if he feels this way too I'm not as alone as I thought I was.

"I just...I just keep trying to tell myself that it's worth it and that I know what I'm doing but I don't. I thought I'd be free here of all the bullshit I had to put up with, but it's literally the same if not worse." All the words spill out of him in a rush and then he lets out a laugh. "And to make things worse, the only things I actually like here are the things that remind me of home. You, and the coffee shop, and books." he runs his hand over the cover of his book. "I - I...Sometimes I wish I'd never left in the first place!" Tears well in his eyes and he buries his face in the crook of my neck. I wrap my arms around him.

I hold him for a long time until finally he quiets and sits up to look into my eyes with surprising intensity. "You know what?"

"What?"

"Fuck this." He pushes himself to his feet, tears still streaming from his eyes until a brushes them away. "I hate this room. Let's go get some air."

"We can't leave the compound." He grabs my hand and starts pulling me toward the door.

"I know where I'm going." He intertwines his fingers with mine. "Come on, you'll like this."

We don't go toward the Pit like I would expect, but instead up in the direction of the Pyre, the structure that rises up from the east wing of Dauntless where all the leadership and administrators work. What could he possibly have to show me there?

It stops mattering the second me walk through the doors and I'm surrounded by light. This place reminds me of an Erudite office building, open to the light of the surface and spotless. A woman at the front desk looks up at us quizzically, but her eyes land on Will and she nods to herself and doesn't say a word. We travel up the elevator to the basement floor and then down a series of twisting hallways until we arrive at a door that is unremarkable except for the plaque which reads, 'Dauntless Historical Archive and Library'.

"Dauntless has a library?" I glance at Will. "Since when?"

He shrugs. "Like a few years ago. Believe me, I was surprised too." He opens the door.

The room is practically a closet by library standards with creaky, overburdened shelves, filing cabinets that have been randomly left open, and boxes upon boxes of loose paper.

"Hello," Will calls. "Anyone home?"

"Will!" exclaims a voice from the depths of the shelves. "Give me just a second!" After a moment passes a woman appears. Her blonde hair stands out starkly against her brown skin and so does the white ink tattoo underneath her eye. Her leather vest and black jeans make her look like she'd be more at home as a bartender than working in a library. Will steps away to give the woman a one armed hug.

She smiles at me. "Oh, you must be Mimi. Will talks about you all the time."

He blushes. "Wendy! Can you not?"

Wendy and I both laugh and I say, "I sure hope he's been telling you the good things." To which she just grins in response.

"I've been wondering when I would get to meet these friends of yours, Will. Where's Christina, and - um - oh what's her name, Tris."

"They're, um…" he drops his voice, "in training."

Wendy gasps. "Are you skipping training?"

He shrugs. "I wasn't in the mood."

"Relax, I'm just giving you a hard time. I certainly skipped plenty of days when I was your age."

"Um," Will looks back to me, "Mimi, this is Wendy Parker. She's the head archivist of the first Dauntless library and historical center."

"Nice to meet you," I extend my hand to her. "The Dauntless have never struck me as the type who cared much about history, or books."

"You and everyone else." Her grip is firm.

"If you don't mind me asking, what makes this place any different from the sections devoted to Dauntless in the Erudite and City Center libraries? Those are huge and, well…"

She frowns. "As a matter of fact, I do mind you asking. It's important work the archive does. It's up to us to keep our own history and other factions would do well to follow our lead. While the Erudite and City Center libraries are all fine and good, they've got too much going on to effectively communicate Dauntless values and what makes us unique."

"Of course. I understand. I meant no offense. Did you study library science?"

"You ask a lot of questions." I blush, realizing my mistake, but then she cracks a smile. "I love curious people. Have you met Marlene Brandish? She's an initiate this year too and she comes by sometimes. Sweet girl, love her to death, very smart.

"We know Marlene," I say, "she's a really good friend of ours."

"Now isn't that just perfect. You know - and be sure to tell Marlene this - the archive is always open to you three. In fact, we could always use more hands."

"Are you offering us jobs?" Will says, bewildered.

"As a matter of fact, I am. We could always use more curious minds in Dauntless. That stuff isn't just reserved for the Erudite. Anyways, you two can go pick out some books now, if you want."

"Actually," I say as Will excitedly disappears into the shelves, "I have more questions. I mean no disrespect."

"No, I know. I've argued these points before. If I couldn't defend them to you I wouldn't be here."

I stand there talking to Wendy for another half hour, asking her questions about the history of the archive and how a plan like this ever got off the ground in a place like Dauntless. Apparently the last leader (who keeps coming up more and more) helped her organize and set it up, but ultimately after she died Wendy was forced to choose between her position as a Dauntless leader and her position as head archivist. Finally I join Will in picking out books, not just books on Dauntless either but fiction and nonfiction of all sorts. Small though it is, this place really seems to be a real library.

After that we take our haul and go up to Urania's for cake.

"So you can see why I like it there, right?" Will says and I nod. He continues, "I haven't told anyone else because I didn't want them to laugh at me or call me too Erudite. But...I thought you would understand. I - I had told Al too because he kept asking but now…" he looks down at the ground. "Now…" We arrive at Urania's and he shakes his head. "Nevermind. Let's go get some cake."

We spend so much money on cake. Just credit after credit after credit until neither of us can take another bite, and that's with no mention of the amount of coffee we drink. We don't talk much. It's hard to put words to the state that we're in, but we understand one another anyways.

"Hey, Mimi," says Will, not fully looking at me.

"Yeah?"

"I think you're my best friend. I love you."

"I love you too." His fingers bush mine. In Erudite people are islands, I formed a chain with my friends and family but bonds like that were few and far between. I needed that connection to survive, I always have. Now I find it here, with another former Erudite.

He smiles at me and says, "I've got an idea."

I chuckle. "Oh, that's never a good thing to lead with."

He takes my hand in his and gets to his feet. "You know how you've been saying that you want to do things that are spontaneous? Let's go get tattoos!"

I laugh again. "Just because I'm trying to be more spontaneous doesn't mean you have to. It's just not you."

"What?!" He puts his hands on his hips. "I can totally be spontaneous. Come on, I'll show you. I've been thinking about this tattoo for weeks."

I snort. "How very spontaneous of you."

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. "Oh, whatever. You know what I mean. Come on." He starts to walk away and, as usual, I can't resist following.

In the tattoo parlor Will picks out the design he's been thinking about for weeks after excitedly showing it to me; a compass rose pointing north. There's symbolism behind it, he tells me, he's spent his whole life looking for direction - for his true north, as it were.

"And it's here." He clutches the sheet close to his chest. "Here and now, this is where I'm meant to be. You, the others, Dauntless, you are my destiny." Then he walks away like he hasn't just said something profound.

Will knows who he's supposed to be. He's not worried about what other people think of him, he doesn't spend so much time worrying over how he's supposed to act. I'm jealous of him, I suppose, that's what this feeling is.

"Anything for you?" asks one of the tattoo artists.

"Sure." I hold up my wrist. "Four more diamonds on the bottom please." This final set represents my new friends, the four of them complete this new me. We're not perfect, but there are days when it feels like we're close.

I wonder what designs will strike me for the others; Uriah, Lynn, Marlene, and of course my old friends. What will I do to honor them?


	30. Chapter 30: A Moment of Reprieve

It's been a little more than a week since the funeral and, somehow, things are starting to feel normal again. I go to meals, I go to training, I spend time with my friends. It's not quite right, but it isn't so horribly wrong either.  
Things have changed though. Will seems to be hanging off of Tris lately, spending time with her when usually his attention falls on Christina and I. Maybe he's just trying to help her feel more normal in the wake of Al's death too, but I don't understand why we can't do things the four of us or why Will's stopped wanting to hang out with Christina and I alone. If I'm being honest, it's weird not having him around.

Tris has been acting strange lately too, I don't know what her deal is. She doesn't seem sad, she doesn't even seem upset. She vanishes at random, drops out of conversations, stares into space. I mean, in some ways most of us aren't much better. I went from not having dreams at all to recurring nightmares about Al, replaying the last time I saw him in my head over and over again, regretting not going after him. He was my friend; I should have done something.

Christina and I have taken the weird opportunity to go on more dates though. We went to Urania's, and I took her to the arcade, and we painted in the art room together. It's nice, less formal than the dates I've been on in the past where there was an intolerable amount of pretence. It's easy, just like being friends with her.

Will and I never did get in trouble for our truancy, not really anyways. Eric joked about kicking us out and Four said we should take this more seriously but never anything beyond that. I didn't even get in trouble for punching Peter, though he throws a dirty look my way every time I'm in his line of sight.

The worst part though is the attempts at petty revenge. Someone must have threatened Peter's spot in initiation in some way because he's really calmed down a lot since the whole Chasm incident. Now he is confined largely to being obnoxious and making everyone as angry as possible. His favorite way to do this is Erudite's articles on Abnegation. You would think after all the things that have happened because of those he would have learned his lesson by now.

People have kind of stopped listening. When he starts, instead of the crowds that used to gather to watch Tris get riled up, people briefly look up and then go back to whatever they were doing. Tris just leaves the room.

"I'm sick of him!" she exclaims in the hallway. "I'm sick of all of this!" Her lip curls. "I don't want to be the Abnegation transfer anymore. I just want to be left alone."

"Tris…" Will puts his hand on her shoulder.

"Look," she huffs, "it's...whatever. It's fine." She wraps her arms around herself and slouches against the wall.

"It's not." Christina touches her arm. "We know that."

She shrugs. "I just...I don't know." She pushes off the wall and walks away without another word.

"Okay." Christina folds her arms. "I've got an idea to make her feel better."

"Probably not leaving her alone and not meddling, right?" says Will.

"Nope!"

Will and I chuckle.

"Okay. So, Will, you need to go distract Tris while Mimi and I set up."

"Set up what?" I ask.

She grins. "We're going to go see your sister."

A few hours later, I'm standing on the bridge that crosses the Chasm with a stack of papers in my hands and my friends around me. It's late, the other people that occupy our dorm have long since gone to bed. Thanks to Pandora and her printer we now have every article on Abnegation that Erudite has printed over the last year, which is more than I would have expected. I thought this was just petty political drama, no, Erudite is serious about Abnegation not being trustworthy.

For Tris this will be a kind of catharsis, letting go of those opinions that only bog her down..

I nudge Christina with my shoulder when I catch her looking nervously down at the churning water below us.

"Are you alright?" I ask.

"I still don't like being up here," she says. "This bridge feels…rickety."

"Actually," Will interjects and then launches into a lengthy explanation about the structural integrity that makes Christina laugh at him as she links her arm through mine. I notice Will's eyes catch on the movement, but he doesn't comment. He's been doing that a lot, staring at Christina and I; odd as I find it, I'm certainly not about to ask. It's hardly my business.

I look away from him down at the papers in my hand. The top one on the stack has Lucy's alias but Jeanine's picture. I tend to think that it gives off the wrong impression; that she directly has anything at all to do with these articles. She condones them, sure, has never liked Abnegation and their ruin only benefits her; but she doesn't write them and it's kind of dishonest to give off the idea that she does. Though I suppose it does make things a little easier on Lucy's reputation; everyone knows it's her, but if she draws attention to the woman who's letting her do it then I suppose it makes her look a little better.

And judging by what Tris says, I'm right. "Have you ever met her, Will?"

Christina crumples up the first report in her stack and hurls it into the water as he says, "Hm? Oh, Jeanine? Yeah, once." He tears one of the papers in his hands to shreds and lets the pieces drop into the water. I rip mine straight down the paper, separating Lucy's name from Jeanine's picture.

Poetic justice.

"She kinda liked my sister, who interned for the head – last head of the chemistry department. She never really got a chance to intern for her, they only take on two a year and those slots had already been filled." Michael and Gwendolyn filled those slots. God, Melanie was mad; that was before they ever knew Gwen, to them she was just a worthless Dauntless transfer who'd gotten a lucky break. "It's kind of cool, I guess; Jeanine's so smart that you can just…see it. Kind of like a…walking, talking computer."

"And you," she nods at me as I split another report down the middle. "You know her, right."

"Yeah. Jeanine's always been close to my parents. Growing up with her around was like having a second mother. She's…she's great."

"What…" she presses her lips together. "What do you two make of what she has to say?"

"Oh it's terrible," I say immediately. "Unequivocally. However, it's not her that writes these. I know the woman that does. Um, Lucy Sharp, head of the journalism department."

"I don't really think that matters," Tris says. "They're still under her jurisdiction."

"Condoning something and producing it are two very different things." I lean against the railing to face her. "You can't blame every shitty thing that every individual in Erudite does on her."

"But this isn't one thing. This is Erudite actually trying to challenge our entire system of government." Her tone begins to grow a little sharper.

"And maybe that's a good thing," Will cuts in, ignoring Tris' glare. "Maybe it would be nice to have more than one faction in charge. I mean, the Abnegation council seems kind of redundant to me."

"How can you say that?"

"What I mean is like…I don't know, comfort and prosperity aren't exactly priorities for Abnegation; maybe they would be if the other factions were involved in decision making."

"Because giving an Erudite boy a car is more important than giving food to the factionless," she snaps.

"Fair enough," I interject. "But I think even you can agree that some of the things that the council does is massively overreaching. I mean, they have no place forcing their morality on other factions and essentially trying to control the way that they conduct themselves."

She pulls a face. "The morals they're supposedly forcing on the other factions are just basic human kindness and–"

"No, they're definitely not," Will cuts her off. "They're getting in the way of progress by making all the factions come to them for approval about every little thing and either accepting or rejecting it based on their own arbitrary morals."

"It is such a bitch and a half to get anything done on a city-wide scale because of Abnegation's bureaucratic micromanaging," I add. At this point I'm basically quoting my parents directly. My father always jokes about the only reason to hate his job is Abnegation, because their council and council liaisons alike are just awful about getting anything done and it seems that they've built in more layers of bureaucracy than they can really handle in a timely manner.

Tris opens her mouth to say something but Christina cuts her off with, "Hey now, this is supposed to be a lighthearted session of symbolic document destruction, not a political debate." Her fingers brush Will's shoulders and he relaxes again, then she tosses all her papers at once into the Chasm and takes my hand in her other one.

"All that stuff she said about your dad, though," Will says to Tris, "makes me kind of hate her. I can't imagine what good can come of saying such terrible things."

I cut my eyes at him, wanting so badly to remind them both that it's not her who writes these articles. That's not her job. But I think that would only start another fight and I certainly don't want to come off like I'm defending what's happening.

Tris gives a curt, unconvincing nod and tosses the rest of her papers into the Chasm. Will and I follow her lead. She watches them float down into the river but I can't, and neither can Will judging by the way that he blanches.

"We should probably head back," Christina says. "It's getting kind of late and we could all probably use our beauty rest."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Will says. "I look fantastic."  
She and I burst out laughing and even Tris offers a weak chuckle.

Tris glances back toward the side of the Chasm that doesn't lead into the hall back to the dormitory. There's a staircase that creeps up the stone wall where a broad, shadowy figure is ascending.

"That sounds great," she says. "But I have to talk to Four about something real quick." She points to the silhouette. "I'll catch up with you guys later."  
Christina frowns. "Are you sure you should be running around here at night?"

We've all been just a little more protective of Tris since she got attacked; it's kind of hard not to be. Even harder not to be smothering about it.

"I won't be alone," she says. "I'll be with Four."

She bites her lip, still unsure, and glances at Will and I.

"Alright then…" She says. "If you're sure."

"See you in the morning probably," Will says.

"Goodnight," I say.

"Night," she calls back at all three of us as we walk away.

After we make it across the bridge onto more secure ground, Christina jumps up and tousles Will's hair, not letting go of my hand once through the motion. He retaliates by poking her in the ribs and she shrieks, recoiling away from him and into me. I shove him lightly by the shoulder and he tries to use his long legs to bound around to the other side of us to get me. Christina and I turn with him and she wails in a rather overdramatic fashion when I make a weak attempt at hiding behind her to avoid Will despite the fact that I'm both taller and wider than she is.

"You have forsaken me!" she cries, laughing. "Love isn't real, everything's a sham!"

I roll my eyes, giggling affectionately and lean down to kiss her on the cheek. Will uses that as his opening and his ridiculously thin arms worm between us and one of his fingers pokes me in the stomach.

"You bastard!" I exclaim, my voice a little heavy on the theatrics.

He sticks his tongue out at me and we fall back into our normal walk back to the dorm.

Christina swings our clasped hands back and forth as we walk like we're children, giving me a really giddy grin every couple of seconds until I say, "What?"

"Oh, nothing." She runs her free hand over my cheek. "You're just adorable."

"Aw, you too." She stands on her toes to kiss me.

I've never felt odd about displaying affection in front of other people, but something about this is different. I feel odd knowing that Will is right there watching us, waiting for us to start walking again so we can get back to the dorm. It ties my stomach into knots for what must be like the thousandth time this month.

"Bleck," he says. "Can we go back to the dorm now?"

"Oh fuck you." Christina stops to kiss me again just to spite him. Not that I'm complaining.

I hear him start to walk away and that's when we pull back, walking faster to catch up with him. When we reach the dorm, we're crossing the room when I suddenly reach around Christina and poke him in the side. He shrieks and I dart across the room, pulling Christina with me but letting go of her hand when I flop on my bed.

"Beds are a safe zone," I say. "I'm calling it."

"That's bullshit!" he says.

I shrug, readjusting my position so that Christina fits under my arm sitting diagonally on the bed.

He rolls his eyes and says, "Shove over, you two." He drops down on Christina's other side, just barely hanging on and me completely squished into the wall.

We talk about Will's terrible taste in movies until Molly sends one of the pillows on the empty bed at her feet flying across the room toward us.

She snaps, "Shut the fuck up." And then puts her pillow over her head in an attempt to muffle the noise. That's around when I glance up at the clock and realize that it's nearly one in the morning.

"Not that I'm ever especially keen on doing what she wants," I say. "We should probably get to sleep so we don't completely want to die tomorrow."

Will huffs and then pushes off my bed and takes a running start to fling himself up onto the bed above me. It kind of works; one leg makes it up and he wriggles the rest of the way on, making little sounds of effort much to our amusement.

"Goodnight!" he calls.

"Night," Christina and I respond in unison.

She kisses me goodnight and then gets up to go back to her own bed. When they've both gone to sleep and I still haven't, I'm left staring at the door from my bed basically waiting for Tris to come back and nothing else. It's nights like these in which I really wish that I had a journal to write in. My journal preferably, but I'm pretty sure that Four literally burned that. Maybe it was for the best, I did write _at length_ about my Divergence long before I knew that was probably a bad idea. I think I'm lucky that Peter never got a chance to see that part.

At least I hope I didn't.

If he did, I think that's a problem for the morning. Right now though, well, a little awkwardness aside, I think that was the first well and truly good time that any of us have had since Al died. Maybe things are really starting to look up for us. I only have two weeks left of initiation. Maybe this is the start of something really amazing.

Or maybe I just totally jinxed myself.


	31. Chapter 31: Sharing The Narrative

**Tris**

I follow Four up the spiraling stairs to a large room with a glass wall that lets the stars in. Four is standing out on the balcony through the double doors, breathing in the cold night air. I watch him for a moment, unsure if I should disturb his peace. Then I remind myself that my survival is more important than peace.

"Four."

He doesn't start. He looks over his shoulder and lets out a put upon sigh. "Thought I heard someone following me. Figures it'd be you."

"I need to talk to you," I cut straight to the point. "You said you would help me figure out the fear sims but so far you've shown me nothing." Weeks ago, Four had figured out that I was Divergent and promised he would help me hide. I still don't know why he did it, but I know I need all the help I can get. But since then I'd gone through the simulation five days a week, facing the same fears over and over again and every day he said nothing when I came out. It was starting to frustrate me.

"I know," he sounded annoyed, which makes me defensive. What gave him the right to be annoyed that I was asking him to deliver on help he had promised me even though I hadn't asked. "I was just...waiting on the right time."

"Training's almost over. How long are you going to wait?"

He sighs and stares out at the lights of the city. It casts us both in a hazy glow, making the shadows on his face seem starker than they are within the compound.

"How have you been feeling, Tris?"

We haven't really spoken since the funeral, since our weird confrontation in the hallway. I don't really know what to make of him now and I certainly don't know how to answer that question.

"Why do you care?"

"I care about all of my initiates."

I let out a humorless laugh. "You have a funny way of showing it."

"I wouldn't push you if I didn't think you could handle it. You can all handle it and I'm not going to coddle you."

"So, what? You do what you do out of some twisted sense of believing in us?"

"Listen," he drags his hand down his face, "it could be so, _so _much worse. If I let Eric do with you what he wanted there's no way any of you would survive initiation."

I flush with rage. "People already aren't surviving initiation. I - I know what you're trying to do and I can take it, but don't pretend like this is for our own good."

He stiffens at that and then abruptly starts to walk toward the door. "Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"You said you wanted help with the sims, I'm going to help you...and maybe by the end you'll understand me a little better."

He leads me back inside down to the room where we'll take our final tests, the Fear Landscape. He goes into a back room and comes back with a set of wires and two syringes filled with orange liquid.

"Are we going to practice my Fear Landscape?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "No, we're going to do mine."

"You can do that?"

He shakes the wires. "That's what these are for. It will connect you to me so you can see what I do."

"But why?"

"Why? Well, I don't know the specifics, I'm not a scientist-"

"No," I interrupt, "why are you taking me into your landscape."

"Because," he starts to attach the wires to my head, "to take you into yours would be cheating."

I laugh nervously. "Isn't all of this already cheating?"

"Don't think too hard about it." He taps the underside of my chin to turn my head. Before he injects me he puts the other syringe in my hand.

"What if I miss the vein?" I say. "I've never done this before."

He nods and takes a moment to teach me how to find the vein. My hands still tremble as I take the syringe in my hand. He doesn't flinch like I do sometimes as the needle goes in, then he does the same to me. He lets me sit in the chair and he perches on the arm of it. He offers me his hand and I take it, feeling the cold and weight of it.

Together, we slip into oblivion

When I open my eyes again we are on a small suspension bridge between two tall buildings. The sky feels impossibly big and the ground miles away. It is so bright in comparison to Dauntless that it makes my head ache. Then the wind starts. The bridge starts to sway and for a moment I am sure that everything will shake apart and we will be sent plummeting to the ground below.

Four shifts his grip from my hand to my arm, squeezing it almost painfully tight. All the muscles in his face have been pulled taunt, his teeth gritted.

"Four!" I shout over the howl of the wind. "We have to jump!"

He takes a moment to process my words, casting a nervous glance downward. Then he calls back, "No! A Divergent would jump, but a Dauntless would cross. A Dauntless thinks of direct action against fear - the most effective thing, with their hands. Not their head or their heart."

I nod and push myself to my feet, swaying for a moment as I try to find my balance on the unsteady bridge. Four looks horrified, more horrified still when I hold my hands out to him. He takes a moment to be visibly afraid, then grabs my hands and pulls himself to his feet.

As we walk, the wind seems to be trying to blow us off. Four keeps an iron grip on my hand all the way and keeps his head tilted skyward. It's up to me to keep us going straight on the bridge, looking down and trying to only think of how great that drop from the roof felt, the sense of elation and discovery as I climbed the ferris wheel.

I could stay up here forever, but then we've crossed to the other side. A single door waits for us and we pause for a moment so that Four can breathe.

"Open it," he says, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants.

I twist the handle and it leads into a dark room with a steep spiral staircase. We walk down, and down, and down until it feels as though we've gone into the heart of the earth. I'm reminded of walking up the stairs of the Hub before the Choosing Ceremony, a lifetime ago.

We finally bottom out in a small, lightless room. I start to open my mouth to ask Four what's next but my head hits the ceiling. Or rather, the ceiling hits my head. The room starts to shrink, when I turn around toward the stairs there is only solid stone. Four throws his arms out in an attempt to stop them but they force him to bend. I try to do the same, putting my feet and back against the other two walls but I'm slowly forced into a ball. Four stoops further by the second until he is curled up next to me with his arms thrust out to either side of him. The box presses us together until I can hardly breathe and I am sure it will only be a matter of time until we run out of air, especially if Four keeps hyperventilating.

"Hey." I manage to uncurl my arm just enough to wave my hand in front of my face, but in a moment that space is gone and my arm is trapped against his body. "Hey it's okay."

"Oh, is it?" I can't see his expression in the dark but I can guess it's one of annoyance.

"At least I'm small," I try with a weak laugh. "Here, if we both curl all the way up we might get through this."

"Or it'll just, you know, trap us further." But I feel him shift to wrap his arms around his legs until we're both curled into balls and pressed against one another. The walls continue to press in with a slow force that will compact us into a flesh cube if it isn't stopped.

"Oh, what do you know," says Four, "this is worse."

"Don't be so grumpy," I reply. "I'm pretty sure this is how we beat it."

"Interesting guess. But how does taking this action fight against the fear?"

"Well, in submitting to it and numbing ourselves to the experience, it can't hurt us anymore. You were the one to say that we could either solve it or calm ourselves down."

"Good." His head bumps mine as he nods. "Now we just calm down. Heh, easy."

"Take deep breaths." That's what my mother used to tell me when I was upset. "Breathe with me."

"Can't breathe," he says. "Too close."

"Try." My back pops as the walls bear down on us. I take a deep breath of the warm, stale air and so does he. After a few moments of holding, we let it out. After a few rounds of this I say, "Maybe telling me where this fear comes from would help."

"Oh, I seriously doubt it." I can hear the eye roll in his voice.

"You can't ask me to solve this and then shoot down every idea I have," I snap.

He pauses for a moment, and then laughs. It's a sharp, desperate laugh and I can feel his chest shaking beside me. "Touché." He takes another deep breath. "Okay, fine. So this one is from my absolutely fantastic childhood. When I did something bad or my parents were fighting and my dad didn't want me around he would lock me in the tiny upstairs closet in the dark. It always felt like the walls were closing in around me and like I was going to run out of air."

I press my lips together, unsure of what to say next even though I was the one who pushed him. I can't imagine what kind of father locks their child in a dark closet.

"I don't...I don't want to talk about this anymore," he says.

I try very hard not to focus on the way that the stone walls push us even closer together until I'm forced to uncurl myself and wrap my arms around him. "Okay. I can talk then. Ask me something."

He lets out a shaky laugh. "Why is your heart beating so fast, Tris? I didn't think you were claustrophobic too."

I cringe, trying to think of an excuse that doesn't involve our close proximity but come up with nothing and decide to just be honest. "Well, we're crammed up against each other in a box, Four. Why do you think my heart's beating fast?"

"Oh," he says. "_ Oh. _"

I feel my face grow hot and I'm glad for the darkness. "Listen, we barely know each other and-"

I'm cut off by him laughing again, and then by a loud cracking sound as the walls crumble to dust around us and at last I can breathe again. I scramble away from him and dust myself off, trying not to look him in the eyes.

I manage one peek up at his face in the light and I can see that his olive cheeks are now a florid red. He doesn't look at me either.

"Let's just get on with this," he says.

There's another circle of light in front of us and a figure sitting in a chair. As we move closer I can tell that it's a woman. Her hair is long and she's dressed in all white, like the girl from the aptitude test. Next to her is a table where a gun and a single bullet rests.

"You know," Four says as he loads the gun into the chamber, "this actually used to be worse. Used to be that I had to beat her to death, then it was a knife. But this, this is the same." He shakes his head. "Always the same."

"You have to kill her."

"It's not just about killing her. It's...she's innocent, she didn't do anything and I have to...I have to hurt her."

"Four," I rest my hand on his arm, "she isn't real."

"She looks real. Her pain is real enough."

The woman looks up at him, eyes pleading.

"Despite everything," he sighs as he trains the gun on her head, "despite being Dauntless, I still don't like hurting people."

I have to look away as he pulls the trigger, but I'm not fast enough to avoid seeing the splatter of blood and gore. When I look back at Four he is trembling.

"It doesn't matter how I do it. It's bad every time." He lets out an unsteady breath and then squares his shoulders, dropping the gun to the floor. "Come on, let's keep moving."

We walk into the darkness and in this in between space he pauses.

"The last fear is the one that lives in the deepest part of your mind. The thing that you fear more than anything else." He sighs. "I don't think I need to say that I'm going to hate this."

The darkness clears after a few more steps and we're standing in a squat house with no decor to speak of.

"Wait a second," I say, "this is Abnegation."

"Yep, it sure is." I notice his hands clench into fists. A figure moves in the darkness, I can tell that it's human but that's it. Who is it, I wonder, that haunts his nightmares.

I look around, this looks identical to the living room in the house I grew up in. Each evening my mom knit hats and scarves for the factionless on the couch, my father did his work in the armchair, and Caleb and I would sit and do our homework at the coffee table.

But the shadows in the room are starker and the prowling shadow at the edge of my vision breaks any illusions of home this place might hold.

"Why are we in Abnegation?"

Four doesn't respond, he doesn't get a chance to as the figure finally steps out of the shadows. He is tall, with broad shoulders and salt and pepper hair cut close to his head. His hands are clasped behind his back and I recognize him immediately. Everyone in the city would.

"Marcus," I say and look up at Four, "What-?"

He shakes his head, trembling. Marcus takes a step toward us and Four takes a step back.

I try to remember what I know about Marcus. He had a daughter, her name was...was… I don't remember. It doesn't matter, she did the thing that almost no one ever does and left.

Marcus brings his hands out from behind his back. In one hand a belt is curled around his fingers and he slowly begins to unwind it.

"This is four your own good," he says softly. The words bounce around the room, coming from everywhere at once and Four looks like he wants to curl up on the ground.

Another Marcus appears from the shadows, and another, and a third until we're completely surrounded by them. All of them hold belts and have black pits for eyes. I remember that Erudite accused Marcus of abusing his daughter, but that doesn't explain why he's here in Four's landscape.

"Angela," Marcus says.

Four folds in on himself, looking sick to his stomach.

"Angela, I want to help you. This is for your own good." The Marcus' all draw back their belts and Four sinks to his knees, covering his head.

Not thinking, just acting, I throw myself over him. We sprawl to the ground, me not big enough to cover him and him not expecting me to do that. The blows land on me instead and pain explodes all over my body.

Four looks up at me, his wide eyes pricked with tears "What…?"

Marcus draws his arm back again and this time Four doesn't freeze. He flips to protect me like I protected him, gritting his teeth. All the while, Marcus keeps repeating the name of his daughter.

We both clamber to our feet, Four helping me up as Marcus pulls the belt back again. Four puts his arm out to protect me but I push past him, again putting myself between him and Marcus. The belt cracks against my forearm, wrapping around it. Still not really thinking, I grab it and pull as hard as I can. He stumbles toward me and Four strikes at him with his fist. All at once the Marcuses disappear and we're back in the fear landscape room. Four is breathing heavily, his hands trembling. Without thinking, I place my own hands over his. He looks up at me, tears still in his eyes.

"Tris..." he says weakly looking at me with what I can only call awe.

"We got through it," i say. "It's over now."

"You got me through it," he corrects me.

"It's easy to be brave when it's not your own fears you're facing."

He furrows his brow. "Don't do that."

"Don't do what?"

"Deflect compliments. It's - it's a very Abnegation thing to do."

I want to be indignant on behalf of my birth faction, but after seeing what I did I don't think I can.

"Okay. Can I - can I ask why you showed all of that to me? I mean, surely you don't do this for everyone."

He nods. "Yeah. I - I don't. I just...I want you to know me, all of me." He gets to his feet. "Come on, I have something else to show you."

Hand in hand we walk toward the Pit. Self conscious, I try to control the pressure of my hand, to not squeeze too tight or make him feel like I want to let go. I had never imagined holding hands with anyone outside my family and in my anxious brain insists that this is different.

"So…" I begin. "Four."

"Yep. For fears then, four fears now, fears I'll probably have for the rest of my life. I don't know. I keep trying to make progress but," he gestures vaguely with his free hand, "nothing."

"No one can be fearless."

"I know." He rubs the back of his neck. "But I want - I want to be free of _him _. I want to live my life without his shadow hanging over me. I feel like I deserve that much."

"You do," I reply.

He takes me down a narrow path at the edge of the Pit I would have never noticed anyways and soon the roar of the Chasm fills my ears. It's a careful balancing act moving down it.

I hate to ruin the moment, but there's something that I need to know.

"Are you going to tell me your test results?"

"Ah." He looks away. "Does it really matter?"

"I want to know." I meet his eyes no matter where they flick away to.

He chuckles. "You're very demanding, do you know that?"

"Yes."

We reach the end of the path, the bottom of the Chasm. Here the water splashes up and the rocks for an uneven and unsteady path. Four squeezes my hand and together we start to cross. He moves with practiced grace whereas I almost slip and fall into the water twice. On the other side of the bank Four sits down in the gravel, watching the water with distant eyes.

I sit down next to him and lace my fingers with his, silently imploring him to answer me.

"Abnegation," he says after a long silence where there was nothing but the rush of the water. "I got Abnegation."

Something in my chest deflates. I had hoped - assumed - that he was like me. But that can't be right. If he was just Abnegation, why would he transfer to Dauntless of all places? I understand wanting to escape his father, but why here? And technically I got an Abnegation result too, but that didn't really mean anything.

"Is that the truth?" I press. "Or is that just what they told you?"

He studies my face for a long time before he says, "Is there a difference?"

"Yeah there's a difference, Four. If I'm Divergent then I can't trust anything that people say. I know what happened with me, with my aptitude. Now I want to know what happened with yours."

He looks, for lack of better words, bewildered. Then he sighs. "Marcus told me what to do in the test. I don't actually know what I would have gotten if I'd been allowed to choose for myself. But I'm not sure it would have been any different."

"But you're an incredible Dauntless. You belong here, of course you do."

"But that's the thing." He huffs. "I really don't. I'm just hiding out. Pretending. Pretending to be Dauntless, pretending to be cis, pretending not to care about anything or anyone. It's all a lie, just like my life in Abnegation. Wherever I go, I'm never able to escape these lies." He squeezes my hand too hard but I don't mind and when he looks back at me he again looks like he's going to cry. "I'm tired, Tris. I'm so tired."

I put my other hand on his arm to try and comfort him.

"You know," I say, "I understand being tired. All this - all this worrying that I'm not enough, it wears me down. I chose Dauntless because I didn't think I was selfless enough, or smart enough, or kind enough, or honest enough. Now I'm here, and I'm somehow both worried that I'm not brave enough and that brave is all I'll ever be."

He stares at me. "Are you kidding? You're the most...the most everything person I know. You're - you're smart, and brave, and honest, and selfless, and kind. Honestly, that's one of the reasons I'm so worried about you because you're just the most all the time." I laugh. "It's true. You laugh, but it's true. Between you, and Mimi, and - god - the rest of your little group I'm always kept on my toes. I'll tell you that for nothing. And, Tris, not selfless enough? You let me throw knives at you to protect your friend. You let Marcus hit you with a belt back there to protect me. That's not selfless?"

I blush and look away, still not entirely used to compliments especially coming from someone I like as much as Four. "You really think so?"

"I like to think I've gotten to know your class pretty well over the last few weeks and, yeah, I know so."

"So have you been keeping an eye on me because you knew I was Divergent, or was it something else?

He presses his lips together and rubs the back of his neck. I swear that he's blushing. "Um...well...It's just…" He huffs. "Okay, fine, I watch you because I like you. You're - you know - skilled, and - and brave, and smart, and pretty. I just like you."

My face burns. "You must be joking."

He laughs out loud, throws his head back and everything. "Tris, have you seen yourself?"

"Is that a joke?" I raise my eyebrow.

"Fair enough," he replies. "Okay, let me lay it out to you. Just so you know, I am not a poet and never will be. Your hair, um," he takes a section in his hand, rubbing it in consideration, "it just catches the light in this way and every time you wear it down it's like this red-brown cloud. You might be trying to hide in it but honestly it just makes you more noticable. And your spots, um," he cringes, "there's got to be a less offensive way to refer to them. Sorry."

"Vitiligo."

"Well, just like your hair they just draw everyone's eyes to you. You're small, but so strong it's really kind of intimidating and your voice, you just sound like you're ready to tell someone off or give this rousing speech all the time. It's amazing. Tris, you're amazing."

I want to bury my face in my hands. Never, never have I been able to conceive of myself as pretty. In school kids called me things like Cow, and Dalmation for my skin. It was always Spotted Stiff this and Spotted Stiff that. And my hair, well, to say that I didn't know what to do with it was an understatement. It was always coming out of its ties and the day on the roof that the elastic snapped was the happiest day of my life. My friends calling me beautiful was the first time I'd ever heard anyone that wasn't my parents say it, and they're - well - my parents. They have to say that.

"Four…"

He takes my other hand in his. "Don't call me that. There's another name, one that I prefer more than that. A couple years ago, when I was new to Dauntless. I - I trained to be a leader and the current leader, Azalea Morgan, she and I got close. She and her husband and their daughter, they were like the family I'd always wanted. There was something that she called me, and now it's all I have left of her. She called me Tobias."

"Tobias," I repeat.

"Yeah. Tobias Morgan."

"Like you're her son."

He looks away, extremely pained. "She treated me like one. I - I'm all Dauntless has left of her."

"What happened to her daughter?" I ask. "Did she transfer?"

"No. When she died, her daughter was only ten and her sister - her Erudite sister - took her away." His hands squeeze mine. "I mean, there were plenty of people here who could have taken her, but Max practically shoved her out the door. It's like he wants everyone to forget." His eyes brim with tears. "It's like everyone wants to forget."

"Tobias…" I lean against him.

"Oh," he says softly. "That feels good to hear." He blinks hard and shakes his head. "Thank you for listening. I know this is a lot."

"So what?" I say. "I'm a lot too."

A smile breaks on his face, then he laughs. His hand leaves mine and comes up to cup his face in my hand. I laugh too without really being sure why. His eyes meet mine and he slowly begins to lean in. I freeze up, not sure what to do in this situation and he starts to pull back.

"What happened? Did I do something wrong?"

Not sure how to do this, but sure of what I want I throw my arms around his neck and pull him close. I've seen people kiss before and know vaguely how it works, so I can only hope that it feels good when I press my lips against his. It must because he wraps his arm around my waist.

We sit there kissing and I imagine the lives that we could have had if things had been a little different. Four other lives we could have led, but we're here and we're now.

For the rest of the night, that's all that matters to me.


	32. Chapter 32: Fear Factor

**Mimi**

The next morning I feel like my eyes weigh a ton. I'm a bleary eyed mess trying to get out of bed and I really don't until Christina helps me up, luring me along with promises of coffee and food.

I don't think I've ever bothered with my hair less and that's really saying something. It's lost pretty much everything that made it nice back in Erudite; it's dull, I have split ends like you wouldn't believe, and it's not tangled but it sure as hell isn't neat. I think that the color is the only think that makes me look not like a total mess.

Tris sleeps in even more than I do, staying in bed until we're all ready and waiting and then only bothering to brush her teeth and throw her hair into a ponytail without once ever glancing in the mirror. She doesn't outright avoid her reflection anymore, but I would say that she's a long ways away from being anything like me.

She doesn't act tired though, she seems lighter today like she's completely forgotten about yesterday's argument. Completely forgotten about everything that's been going on in general.

"What is with you today?" Christina finally asks on the way to breakfast. "You're making the rest of us look like we got the life sucked out of us in the middle of the night."

"Oh, you know." She fidgets absentmindedly with her hair. "Sun shining, birds chirping."

"We're underground," she deadpans.

"Let the girl be in a good mood," Will interjects. "You may never see it again."

She scoffs, smacking him in the arm and then hurrying off toward the dining hall. We try and follow her, but are all far too exhausted to keep up with that spring in her step.

"Jesus Christ," Will mutters, even his long legs unable to keep pace with her.

"Let the girl be in a good mood," Christina mocks, giggling.

He rolls his bloodshot eyes at her, shaking his head.

We sit down and for a second Tris perks up even more, she lifts her hand like she's about to wave at someone but before I can follow her eyes, her hand drops and she seems to deflate.

"Something wrong?" Uriah asks, taking a seat next to her. His mouth is full of toast as he speaks. Marlene and Lynn join us a moment later. Tris shakes her head at him.

"Morning," Marlene says, a sleepy lilt to her voice.

"Today's Fear Landscape day," Will says. "You think we'll get to see our own?"

Uriah shakes his head. "No. My brother told me that you go through one of the instructors' landscapes."

"Ooh, which instructor?" Christina suddenly perks up.

Will narrows his eyes at Uriah. "You know, it really isn't fair that you get all this extra information and we don't."

He scoffs. "Oh like you wouldn't use an advantage if you had one."

Christina ignores them, turning to me and saying, "I hope it's Four's."

"Ooh me too."

"I'll bet that he's afraid of something ridiculous like marshmallows and really bright sunrises or something. And his whole attitude is just like...overcompensating."

I snicker. "It wouldn't surprise me."

"Why do you guys care?" Tris says with more than a little bite in her voice.

"Woah, looks like someone's had a mood swing," Christina quips, unfazed.

"Don't you ever get curious?" I raise my eyebrows. "Secretive as he is and all."

"Or maybe you're just nosey," Lynn interject, laughing and then laughing harder when Marlene elbows her.

I brush the comment off with a little shrug.

Tris shakes her head. "No, and it won't be him."

"How can you be so sure?" Christina asks.

She shrugs. "Just a prediction."

"That's unfortunate," Marlene says. "I've known him for years. I would kill to know what goes on in that head of his."

"Not much, I'd assume," I mutter and Tris responds by sending a confusing glare my way. She knows how I feel about Four; I don't understand why she's suddenly so defensive.

From there, the topic shifts into more lighthearted subjects. At the end of breakfast, Four and Lauren lead us back up to the room that Four showed us last week.

In front of us, Lauren paces back and forth with her hands on her hips. Behind us, an older woman with the most vibrant indigo hair is watching us rather curiously.

"When I was your age," she says, "I was afraid of spiders, suffocation, walls that inch slowly inward and trap you between them, getting thrown out of Dauntless, uncontrollable bleeding, getting run over by a train, my father's death, public humiliation, and kidnapping by men without faces. Most of you will have anywhere from ten to fifteen fears in your fear landscapes. That is the average number."

"What's the lowest number?" Lynn asks.

'In recent years, Four."

"Hm, I wonder who it could be," I mutter to Will.

"For the purposes of this exercise, though, each of you will only face one of my fears, to get a sense for how the simulation works. You won't find out what your number is today or any day up until the final test unless you've been counting all the different ones you've faced in your regular simulations. Today it's set to my fear landscape program, so you will experience my fears instead of your own."

"Bummer," I mutter to Christina.

Tris gives us both a look as if to say, '_ I told you so _.'

"For the purposes of this exercise, though," she continues, "each of you will only face one of my fears, to get a sense for how the simulation works." She assigns us each a random wear and I wind up with the train one.

Peachy.

Will winds up with suffocation, Christina has getting thrown out of Dauntless - to which she reacts with, "_ Fantastic, like I wasn't already afraid of that anyways _." - , and Tris has the kidnapping one.

"This should be fun," Will mutters once we're all allowed to go sit down in the chairs along the walls. Just like with the waiting room upstairs, there's not enough and half the initiates wind up sitting on the floor or leaning against the wall.

"Oh boatloads," I agree.

"At least we're aware what's going on this time," Christina says. "That should make it a little easier."

I shrug noncommittally. I'm not about to reveal my little abnormality, but Christina was Candor and I know that there's no getting away with outright lying to her.

While we wait, we're allowed to watch our fellow initiates go through the simulation through the big plate glass window. But since we're not hooked up to the computer, we can't see what they see. We can kind of see into the other room though, where Four, Lauren, and the indigo haired woman all sit occasionally marking things off on their papers. It's kind of easy to forget in the midst of all this insanity that _everything _we do is scored, not just the main activities. All of our warmups, this pre-test basically, it all factors into the final score that will determine the rest of our lives.

I watch Uriah go through the spiders, brushing them off with little fanfare but groaning under his breath, Will holds his breath and thrashes against whatever's suffocating him, Peter turns bright red about whatever humiliation appears to him, and tears trickle down Christina's face as she faces expulsion and when she comes out I wrap her tight in my arms as she trembles. But I don't get to hold her long because I'm called back next.

I try not to feel afraid as I step back. This is Lauren's fear, not mine; I can handle a train, and a fake train at that. Four's right, I am really good at thinking my way through these simulations. But I think that he's wrong when he implies that that isn't an asset. Plus, I have the added advantage of having already experienced the feeling of being aware that what's around me isn't real - for better or worse.

Lauren inserts the needle into my neck and my last thought as the world begins to fade around me is a reminder to myself that I'm being scored so I have to do well.

The next time I blink, I'm standing in the middle of one of the raised tracks. The first thing I try is sitting down on the edge and just jumping down, I can kind of see the pavement below be; but it seems like it's fading in and out, getting closer and further.

_This isn't real _, I remind myself. _Just jump _.

It doesn't matter, because I hit something like an invisible wall when I try. A horn blares in the distance.

"You're really going to make me do this, aren't you?" I mutter to nothing.

The train approaches, rattling the tracks. I try to go off the side again and hit the wall. I let out my sigh through my teeth and force myself to ignore the tremble in my chest. There's only one other obvious solution; one that doesn't involve me closing my eyes and letting the train turn me into paste. I let out a shaky breath and lay down as flat on my back as I can get.

"You're being scored," I mutter to myself. "You've got to do well because you're being scored."

The shaking tracks make my whole body shake too. Or maybe I'm just afraid. The sound of the metal wheels rumbling along is practically defining and when the first car passes over me I have to hold my breath and close my eyes to avoid inhaling any of the dust that it kicks up. It must go on forever I thing, just car after car passing overhead and my lungs begin to scream for air. The noise rattles my bones and finally when I inhale it's with a lungful of dust. I choke and despite myself panic grips me. Suddenly I want to roll and squirm and get out from under this thing but the space is so tight that I can't move for fear of properly getting run over. They're not going to make me actually put a body part under the wheels, right? That would be messed up even for Dauntless.

I choke and wheeze and tears well up, trying to get the dirt out of my eyes. It's hard not to lose it, not to scream for help or mercy. All that stops me is the knowledge that I'm in front of an audience, that I'm being scored and the worse I react the worse the situation will get. The horn blares above me, making my teeth rattle. I know I made a mistake, I should have tried to think of another plane. One less stupid than just laying down in front of a train. Isn't that supposed to be my specialty? Plans? Jumping the wall?

It might just be my own inane panic getting to me, but the space seems to be getting tighter. Slowly there is less and less space between the undercarriage of the train and my body, less space between the rails until the wheels screaming past are stripping the fabric and flesh off my arms. I can smell the metal and grime, it makes me gag. I try to lift my head to see the end of the train, see how much longer I need to last like this but the undercarriage just slams into my head at full speed and I'm instantly unconscious.

Then it's over, I'm sitting back in the reclined chair staring at the ceiling, but I can still feel the phantom of the dust in my lungs and a headache rocks my skull. I let out another shaky sigh and push the loose sections of my hair away from my face. I glance back at the room where Four, Lauren, and the indigo woman are sitting. I'm not oblivious to Four's frown.

Must have thought through it too fast or _whatever _.

I get up and trudge back into the waiting room, resisting the urge to cough because I know that there's nothing in my lungs. But the itch in my throat remains.

"That was quick." Christina's fingers lace through mine as soon as I'm through the door and we sit down with Will and Tris again.

"Is there any particular reason we're not allowed to leave?" I ask. "I mean, I don't really see the point in just sitting around and waiting like this."

Will shrugs. "Why do they do anything?"

"To make us miserable," Christina quips, laughing.

To my surprise, my Dauntless-born friends roll their eyes at us, exchanging deadpan glances with each other.

It's Tris' turn next, she seems even less nervous than I was.

Seems.

A few minutes in she breaks down, screaming and thrashing wildly. We watch her panic in horror.

"How is this the girl in first?" Drew sneers.

Neither me, nor my friends bother to respond to that; we're too busy watching in horror.

"Stop" Four comes out of the other room. Lauren and the indigo haired woman take their headphones off, watching Four carefully.

Tris' eyes flash open again and I can't hear her hyperventilating but I can see it. She wipes tears from her eyes as Four looms over her. She presses her face into her hands. I can't see the face that he's making , but I doubt that he's smiling.

He yanks her onto her feet and snaps, "What the hell was that, Stiff?!"

She doesn't seem like she's able to get through a sentence, shaking her head and stumbling over her words.

"Get yourself together! This is pathetic."

She looks up at him, cold fury in her eyes, then slaps him hard across the face. I gasp. I think that most everyone gasps.

She exclaims, "Shut up!" And storms out of the room, through the waiting room, and out the door before anyone else can say another word.


	33. Chapter 33: Glass and Steel

**A/N: Hey everyone, I'm uploading this chapter again because I just realized that last time I updated I put in the wrong chapter. Please go back and look at Chapter 32 again. Thank you!**

**Tris**

I pull my jacket tight around my shoulders as I step out into the cold November air and squint under the light of the bright, pale sun. With one hand, I scrub the tears from my eyes again and suck in deep breaths. I know we're not supposed to leave Dauntless without some sort of escort

I don't really care.

At least I accomplished one thing, I don't think that anyone's afraid of my strength anymore. I just have to make sure that when I go through my landscape for real I don't do what I did there. I went in thinking that it was impossible for me to fail; I have an advantage that no one else does.

I'm not so sure if that's so true anymore. I may be aware of my surroundings, but that doesn't mean that I can fight them like Tobias can. I thought that I had a handle on it, the simulations. I'm not so sure about that anymore either.

I take another breath, letting go of the urge to cry then pull my hair back into an even tighter ponytail. I am not the kind of person who lets stupid things like boys and near death experiences get her down. If I was, then I wouldn't be here.

The sound of the train in the distance catches my attention. I walk farther away from the doors and closer to where the tracks pass. I wonder what Dauntless looks like from up above. I mean, I'd never noticed it before like I've noticed the other factions so it must not seem like much.

I shiver as an icy wind blows. It's cold even for November and the sun is doing nothing to help.

I want to go home. I want to jump on the train and ride it until I'm close to the Abnegation sector. It's nearly noon, my parents will probably be home for lunch soon. I could wait for them. I've missed my father since I left, but not seeing him on Visiting Day made me miss him even more.

But we were warned not to seem too attached to our parents or our birth factions. Visiting home would be like betraying Dauntless and I don't think that it matters that I'm first in my class, I think that Eric is already searching for a reason to get rid of me and would just love it if he could expel me for something like really truly being the Stiff he thinks I am.

But he never said anything about not visiting people in other factions. And my mom did tell me to go and see Caleb.

I walk faster and faster as the train nears until I've broken into a full sprint. I jump up, grabbing the handle and planting my foot in the hold then slam down on the button that opens the door. I'm happy to find that I have whole car to myself. I sit down on the edge, my feet dangling just above the ground, and watch the Dauntless compound disappear behind me. I don't want to go back really, but I don't want to quit either. I'd rather be expelled.

Still, choosing to be factionless would be the bravest thing I've ever done and today I feel like a coward.

I sigh, leaning out slightly and letting the wind run over my face. I may not be able to go back to my actual, physical home, but Caleb is something like home; he's a part of nearly every one of my childhood memories. He is a part of who I am; Erudite or not.

We have that in common. It makes my skin crawl to think that either of us are anything like those self-absorbed gossips. I do know good former Erudite; Will and Mimi, I don't know how they ever came out as good as they did knowing Will's sister and knowing that Mimi's parents are so involved with Jeanine. I don't really think either of them understand the gravity of what they're doing to Abnegation though. They treat it like it's nothing but harmless - albeit kind of annoying - gossip when it's not.

The train begins to slow as it approaches the heart of the city; buildings and people whiz by me and when the train dips down near the upper levels building I jump off. No one so much as glances at me, not even the Dauntless. No one knows that I'm not supposed to be out here.

It's strange to be back here. The last time I walked this way I feel like I didn't know much of anything. I mean, in some ways I feel like there are still a lot of questions I haven't answered, but it's not like being just another Abnegation who was scarcely in control of her own life.

I shake off the feeling and keep walking down the block where the buildings are made mostly of glass and steel. I can tell that some are businesses, others are apartments, and all of them are beautiful. A florist's shop that I pass has flowers in every possible color on display being watered by a gorgeous woman with long black hair.

I try not to stare at the Erudite I pass by, they're already staring at me enough as it is. I'm far out of place in every possible way; my plain face, my sort of unkempt hair, my casual black clothes. Old and young, the Erudite I pass let their curious stares linger on me for longer than I'm comfortable with and don't in the least shy away when I stare back.

I realize after about fifteen minutes of wandering around that I have no idea where I am or where I'm supposed to find Caleb. Eventually though, I catch a girl in a suit who looks like she's about my age with shiny copper curls held back with a black headband and a splatter of freckles across her nose.

"Can I help you?" She stares too with her glittering hazel eyes and fluttering dark lashes.

"Um, do you know where I would find the initiates? Like, a dorm or something."

"Most of us spend our free time in the library; it's a couple blocks from Erudite tower, big white steel and glass building broken up into interconnected sections with kind of a domed roof, says 'Library' in front of it. You cannot possibly miss it." I'm about to walk off with a muttered thank you when one of her delicate brown hands catches my arm. "Why? Visiting Day was weeks ago and I don't usually see Dauntless come around here; especially not this time of year."

I shrug her off. "Thanks for your help. That's none of your business."

I hear her give an indignant little scoff that I choose to ignore in favor of forging on ahead. I duck my head a little just to avoid having to look at all those curious stares. Maybe it's just me, but it gets a little uncomfortable after you catch the eighty-sixth person slow their walk to keep looking at you.

Well, the girl was right. The Erudite Library is impossible to miss. It's a pretty building, just like everything else here. I take a second to stop and admire the beautiful, fragrant flowers in the planters that run parallel to the steps before going inside. Sitting on the rims are still more Erudite; they talk, and read, and really unsubtly watch me. One, a person about my age, talks about me even as I pass by. They twirl the single yellow section of their black twists. I stare right back at them and their friend, which like every other Erudite they're both completely unfazed by. Then I shake my head in an exasperated manner and go inside.

The first floor of the library seems to just be a lobby or lounge of sorts. Couches and chairs seat the dozens talking and working all around me. Some look up at my entrance but most don't, to my surprise some even look up and go back to their work without missing a beat. I didn't think that Erudite were capable of putting anything before their own curiosity.

I walk up the clear stairs to where light and noise drift from the upper floor. The staircase winds around and on one of the walls around the landing is a massive display screen with names and numbers on it in ten slots. On the top in big letters it says '_ LEADERBOARD _'. I skim the names, not expecting to recognize a single one but curious nonetheless.

Elizabeth Reynolds

Dahlia Kane

Caleb Prior

Felix Gossamer

Sierra Cordova

Wait a second, what?! _Caleb _? My brother Caleb in the number three slot?

I guess we're both a lot better than anyone's ever really given us credit for.

Still, I don't understand how he could ever choose to be one of them; one of the people who stare no matter how rude they seem, the ones who seem to have nothing better to do than drag others through the mud.

I keep climbing and the staircase opens up into a huge room with tall shelves and a massive glass ceiling crisscrossed by white steel beams. There's no need for the round white lamps that hang from the beams because the sun lets in all the light the people in here could ever need. In the center are dozens of tables, most of them occupied by people of all ages and their belongings; computers, books, bags, machines that I couldn't even begin to guess the meaning of.

I scan the crowd until I find Caleb among them. I almost don't recognize him; he stands taller, leaning on a table talking to a girl with her hair scraped back from her face into a puff. She says something that makes him laugh and after taking a second to gather my courage I walk slowly toward the two of them.

She notices me first, lightly smacking Caleb in the side to get his attention. I expect him to smile when he sees me, to do anything besides get a look of pure, unadulterated panic as he says a hasty goodbye to his friend and strides forward. He catches me by the shoulders and spins me around in the other direction, his grip just a little too tight and it doesn't let up until we're behind more than a few bookshelves - far away from that main area.

"Beatrice?!" he hisses.

"Hi," I say as casually as I can. "Who was that?"

He pulls a face before very hesitantly saying, "Adrianne. She's a friend of mine. You have a tattoo." He gestures to the crows underneath my collarbone. There's no follow-up joke about how un-Abnegation my outfit is, which I'm glad for.

"You're growing your hair out." Abnegation men usually keep theirs in a close cut style, but Caleb enough now that he can gel it into a swoop in the front. "And...are you wearing makeup?" There's a line of black around his top eyelids that I recognize from looking at my friends.

He touches his fingers to his face. "Um, yeah. It's kind of a big thing here." He shakes his head. "Anyways, what are you doing here?" He doesn't sound upset at all, just curious, like the girl who told me where to find him.

"I...something happened."

"Something happened?" he repeats incredulously and puts his hand on my shoulder. "What do you mean 'something happened'? What happened?"

"I - I'm in a lot of trouble. I'm not sure if I'm going to make it in Dauntless; if I can really be like them."

He chuckles. "I mean who is? They're crazy."

"Maybe I can go back to Abnegation." I'm not sure if that's really what I want but I need to bring them up before I really tell him what's really going on.

He shakes his head. "That's not possible. You already chose and-"

"Well I know that," I interrupt him, "but-"

He cuts me off as well. "No, there's no way that the faction council is going to let Abnegation get away with breaking anymore rules. Erudite especially; people are fed up enough as it is, can you imagine if the representative took back his daughter who transferred? There'd be outrage."

I huff and shake my head. "Erudite actually thinks they're the ones in charge, don't they?"

"Well maybe that's not such a bad idea." I have to stop my jaw from dropping at that.

"I - I... What?"

He shrugs. "I'm just saying. Maybe it wouldn't be so terrible if Abnegation wasn't totally in control of everything. I mean, their overreaching has got to stop somehow, their recruitment is dwindling, there will be nothing left of them in a few decades and it's better that we take care of that problem sooner rather than later."

"How can you say that?!" I blurt out a little louder than intended. Then I hiss, "How much have you been listening to what they tell you here?"

He frowns. "Everything. Don't you listen to what your Dauntless teachers tell you?"

_More or less _, I respond in my head.

"This isn't Candor, Caleb!" I whisper-yell. "There are people who lie here and who are really good at it."

"God, you sound like Dad." He rolls his eyes and sneers in a way that I've never seen.

I take a step back from him. "You can't be serious."

"No, I am serious. There's more to this place than we've ever been told and I think you're wrong to discount them based on what we were told as children. My teachers, my friends, it's...it's different. And maybe they have some good ideas."

"Caleb that's our home you're talking about; our family!"

"_ No _." He pulls a face. "That _was _our home and they _were _our family. There's a bigger world out there than what Abnegation set out for us. I think we can both agree to that." Maybe he's right, but he says it in such a self-assured, borderline smug tone that it doesn't make me anything but furious.

"Caleb," I say, "you don't know what you're talking about."

That makes his expression darken. "It was really nice seeing you, Beatrice, but I think you should go now."

I glower at him, but before I get a chance to protest another voice interrupts us. It's high and sharp; snapping, "Caleb!" loudly enough to make us both jump.

Caleb spins to face her; her being the girl with umber black skin with a heavily made up face and perfect black curls; she's glaring at us both like she wants to set us on fire as she storms toward us in her high heels, without which I'd bet she's even shorter than I am.

"Hi, Eliza," Caleb drawls, his voice higher than normal.

"Ugh! I have been looking for you everywhere; where the hell have you been?!"

"Um-" he starts but the girl cuts him off again, shaking her head.

"Never mind, I don't care. Point is, Representative Malachite said eleven forty-five and I'm not about to get docked because you can't get your shit together. And I'm sure as hell not about to let Kane, Gossamer, and Cordova look better than me."

"You didn't have to come looking for me," Caleb points out, his lips pressed tightly together and he presses his hands together behind his back.

She sighs. "Yes, I did, Dr. Captor told me to come and find you. But I'm not about to piss off his wife by being late. Let's go."

"I'm sorry." I step between them. "But we're sort of in the middle of something so-"

She cuts me off with a groan. "Oh, I don't care. Oh my god I could not care less if I tried. We've got somewhere to be so if you could kindly just piss off that would be _fantastic _."

I glare at her, then at Caleb. "Fine. I guess I'll just be going then."

"Beatrice, I-" he starts.

"No, I get it," I cut him off. "Faction before blood. Besides, I wouldn't want you to be late." I turn and walk away from the two of them, headed out the way I came when two men in dark suits stop me.

"Beg your pardon," one says, "but we need you to come with us."

I start to brush past them but the other grabs my shoulder. On instinct, I ram my elbow up into his jaw. The larger one grabs me and I put a hand on his wrist to wrench him away.

"Stop." The command comes cold and clear from above us.

I look up to see Jeanine Matthews looking down over the railing, surrounded by a small entourage.

"Are you alright?" she asks.

I brush myself off and straighten my jacket. "Yeah. Just fine."

Most of the people surrounding her disperse as we walk save for just two. One is a woman who is short - though still taller than me - with dark brown skin and soft, gentle features that are horribly offset by her dark makeup and the scowl hard-set into her face. The other has lighter brown skin covered in freckles and unnaturally auburn-red hair like Myra used to, yanked into french braids so tight they look painful. They replace the two men, walking behind me and I can feel their presences looming over me.

We walk through a maze of hallways, stairs, and chambers until we reach a nearly empty room with a wall made entirely of glass that overlooks a well-kept atrium where people sit on the benches, or the giant flowerpots, or in the grass going about their business. For a moment, I almost forget that it's mid-November; it looks like May down there.

In between two shelves, curled in a cushioned alcove, I notice a tiny girl who looks much younger than I am. There's a stack of books on the floor next to her and one in her lap that she looks up from the moment we walk in and stares at us with her massive dark eyes. Locks of thick, black hair hang in her face despite the best efforts of her navy headband, but she doesn't seem bothered by this.

Jeanine sits down in one of the two chairs on either side of a glass coffee table that has a few different books stacked on the end. After a second of hesitation, I sit down in the other. The younger of her two assistants - the one with black eye makeup and even blacker eyes - puts her hand on the back of Jeanine's chair. The two of them exchange a few more words before she stands straight again.

"I'll be outside," she murmurs and then makes a quick exit down the stairs toward the back of the room; but not without sending a look in my direction that I think might have been a glare, but she's been frowning this whole time so I can't tell.

The other assistant sets down a cup of coffee in front of both of us along with a tray of various things to add to it. Then she moves toward the edge of the room to talk to a man with gray-streaked brown hair who I vaguely recognize as the man who greeted Mimi the day we saw Jeanine in Dauntless.

"You'll have to excuse Gwendolyn and the others. We're running on a bit of a tight schedule; initiation is quite a busy time of the year."

_So why do you have time to sit down and talk to me? _I respond in my head.

I pick up my coffee and take a drink so I don't have to respond. It's horrible; I don't even like coffee.

"I'm glad that you came here today," she says.

I set down my mug and it down on the saucer; the room is so quiet that it echoes. "You are?"

"Well of course," she says. "I did say that if you ever needed anything to let me know. Anything for a friend of my - of Mimette's."

I give a shallow nod. This is the woman who's destroying my old home through what she writes - or what the people she employs write; same difference.

I would have imagined someone so hell-bent on dividing the factions to be a little less accepting of her friend's daughter's transferring. But she seems to still think that they're close as ever, and I think that Mimi thinks so too. Like I said, I _really _don't think she understands exactly what Jeanine is doing to Abnegation.

"Are you happy with your new faction?" she asks.

I nod again. "Yeah, it's...great."

"But you came to see your brother. Why?" She cocks her head just slightly to the side.

"I just...missed him." It's the truth. I had missed him; I wanted to see him on Visiting Day. I guess the feeling wasn't mutual though.

"Hm. Have you seen your parents?"

"Not since Visiting Day."

"Well, it can be hard to let go." She sounds almost sympathetic as she speaks. Almost. "Faction before blood, it's an important ideal; but, sometimes difficult to fulfill. Goes against our fundamental human nature."

I give another shallow nod, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. I know what I said to Caleb, but I'm not really sure if I believe that. I know that not everyone really believes in it; my mother doesn't believe in it; half my friends don't seem to believe in it.

I find it hard not to stare at her. Her voice was the one that I heard talking to Eric on the night I was attacked. Her face is the one plastered on all the Abnegation articles. How long have I hated her? I don't know. And I don't care if Caleb and Mimi both think that she's good, there's something that I don't quite trust.

"But," she continues, "it's a weakness that we all must overcome."

I pause. "You think that human nature is a weakness?"

"I think that human nature is the enemy. It's human nature to lie, to steal, be selfish, to hurt others, all the things that our factions stand against. I want to eradicate those things that pose a threat to our society."

I nod again. It almost sounds right, almost plausible. But I know how Erudite can lie, how they can make anything sound logical. Those articles about Abnegation are as well written as they are harmful.

"And as a Dauntless, it's your job to help me with that, isn't it?"

I glance out the massive window to the courtyard down below, wondering how they keep it so impossibly green. "How would I be able to help you?"

"Well, you are aware that Abnegation has been breaking laws, correct? Hoarding resources, involving themselves in other factions' affairs that are none of their business…harboring Divergent? Any of that sound familiar?"

"Um." I shift my gaze down to the coffee table. "No, I didn't know that. But if that's true then…then I'm glad I left."

"Do you know that it's the Faction Council's right and duty to intercede when any faction – even the governing one – oversteps their bounds, and more importantly that it's Dauntless' job to uphold the laws that keep our society together?"

"I did know that." It's what I've always admired the Dauntless for, for their ability to defend themselves and others. That was before I knew how much so many of them picked on the ones weaker than them just for their own amusement.

And Erudite does the same.

"The rest of the city and I need to know that you can be counted on to enforce the law. Even when it's broken by someone you care about."

I force myself to look up at her. I can almost feel her trying to pick my brain apart with her eyes. "Of course."

She smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "Good."

I almost breathe a sigh of relief. But it doesn't seem like she's done with me yet. I let my stare fall back to my boots.

"It's fascinating, you know, you're one of only two Abnegation to receive an Abnegation result but transfer to Dauntless anyways in recent history. Were you aware of that?"

"No," I say, surprised.

Tobias and I are really the only ones? There are thousands of people in Dauntless, how are there only the two of us?

But my result was a lie and his wasn't, so really it's just him. But right now I don't really care if he's exceptional. He called me pathetic.

"Why did you choose Dauntless?"

"Why does that matter?" I ask without thinking.

She smiles again, cold as the last one. "I'm just curious. Two siblings with two very different results, both departing from the faction they once called home. It's fascinating. As to the reason for your presence here…a quality of my faction is curiosity, and while perusing your records, I saw that there was another error with another one of your simulations. Again, it failed to be recorded. Did you know that?"

My father says that inquisitiveness is a mark of selfishness. If this is the personality type he was referring to than I understand what he means.

I frown. "How did you access my records? I thought that only the Dauntless have access to those." It's bad enough that she's seen my Aptitude Test results; clearly she sees something suspicious about me.

"Erudite developed the simulations Dauntless uses for their second and third stage of initiation. Because of that, we have an…understanding; if they allow us access to their initiates records to allow us to calibrate our product, we can promise them that they'll see the improvements that we make thanks to their assistance. I am merely concerned for the competence of our technology. If it fails while you are around, I have to ensure that it does not continue to do so, understand?"

She's lying; I may not be in Candor initiation, but I know when someone's lying. She doesn't care about how Erudite's technology works. All she cares about is hunting down Divergent like she was telling Eric about. And she knows that there's something off about me, so now she's determined to figure it out.

"I – I don't know how they work. But…the liquid and the injections both make me sick to my stomach so…I don't know; maybe the administrator was distracted because he was worried I would throw up, and he forgot to record it. I got sick after the aptitude test too."

She cocks her head to the side. "Do you habitually have a sensitive stomach, Beatrice?" Her voice is like a razor's edge and she's pressing because she knows that there's something I'm not telling her.

Just like me, I know that Erudite are extremely intuitive; they're almost like the Candor in the way that they can figure things and people out. I've seen Will do it, I've seen Mimi do it, I think that's where I get it from, and now I'm sitting here on the receiving end of it. It's chilling to have someone so easily tune into what you're thinking.

"Ever since I was young." I might just be able to convince her that there really is nothing out of the ordinary with me. Or, if not convince her, then get her to leave me alone.

The sound of high heels coming up the stairs behind us distracts us both. I look back behind me to see a woman leaning against the edge of the railing. Once acknowledged, she approaches and rests her hand on Jeanine's shoulder. She's frighteningly beautiful; tall with pulled back jet black hair and glittering brown eyes.

Mimi's mother. I think her face is impossible to forget. Her name isn't though. I think my father hates her as well, she is Jeanine's close colleague after all. But he almost never speaks of her.

"Yes, Carolina?" Jeanine says, looking up at her.

"We have a twelve o'clock, remember? The others are waiting."

"Oh, yes, of course." Jeanine stands, she and Carolina are close enough that their hands brush.

Carolina raises her eyebrow and tilts her head in my direction, clearly waiting for an explanation, but Jeanine just smiles at her.

She glances back at me. "I'll have someone take you back to Dauntless."

"Ryan." Carolina waves over the man with gray and brown hair who's been silent until now. The red-haired woman follows him, the two of them stepping in unison and stopping just before the coffee table. "Be a dear, won't you?"

"You got it, Boss," he says. He starts walking away but I stay seated. When he doesn't hear my footsteps, he glances back with a raised eyebrow. "What, you want a written invitation or something? Let's go."

"Ryan," Carolina says in a warning tone.

If Ryan's listening at all, he doesn't acknowledge her. He waits for me to get to my feet and then starts walking away again. I follow him, albeit a lot slower and with much less sway in my hips.

"Prior's daughter?" I hear Carolina ask after I turn the corner. "What was she doing here?"

"Visiting her brother," Jeanine says. "I thought now would be as good a time as any to, ah, see how the two compare."

Carolina hums in amusement. "And?"

I don't get to hear how she responds because I'm too far away. When we get outside, Ryan pushes the sunglasses on his head down over his eyes. When he does, one section of his hair falls over his eye in a swoop that he doesn't brush back. We walk down the sidewalk, still attracting stares that don't seem to faze him. On our way to wherever he's taking me, we pass a black car pulled up on the curb. I glimpse Caleb getting in, waiting behind him are the red-haired girl that gave me directions and the person who was talking to their friend about me on the steps, still twirling their yellow braid; and Mimi's father leaning against the car. Before I'm able to watch them anymore, Ryan clears his throat and that's when I notice that he's halfway down the sidewalk.

"Um, what are they doing?" I ask.

"I think that's hardly your business, now is it?"

I'm a little put off by his response, but I don't show it. Still, I've never heard an Erudite – an actual Erudite not a transfer or anything – refuse to answer a question.

We walk to a parking lot where, under the shade of a white awning, a sleek black car sits. Ryan unlocks it and I climb into the back seat.

We drive back to Dauntless in silence, where out by the front doors Eric is already waiting for me.

Ryan snorts as he pulls to a stop. "Good luck to you, Kid."

"'M not a kid," I mutter as I get out. As soon as I shut the door, he drives off, leaving me alone with Eric.

"Welcome back, Tris," he says in that unsettlingly calm tone that makes me shudder involuntarily. He gestures for me to follow him through the doors.

We to a part of Dauntless that I've never been to. It's above ground and looks more like an Erudite building than a Dauntless one, but the metal here is black instead of white. We get into an elevator and ride up to the ninth floor in complete silence. He's going to kick me out, I know that much. But not before he gets in a chance to berate me for my bad decision and gloat about how he knew I wouldn't last. We walk into a room that I presume is his office; I'm kind of surprised that the place doesn't have heads mounted on the walls or something.

He sighs. "What…" his first word comes out quiet, then they grow louder as he continues to speak. "exactly were you thinking?!"

"I…" He's so close to me now that I can see the holes his metal piercings fit into, "I don't know."

"I am tempted to call you a traitor, Tris," he says. "Have you never heard the phrase '_ faction before blood' _?"

I nod, not quite looking into his cold dark eyes.

"Were you unsatisfied with the life you have found here? Do you perhaps regret your choice?" He raises his eyebrows. "I would like to hear an explanation for why you betrayed Dauntless, yourself, and me…" He taps his chest and I'm tempted to laugh. He couldn't care less beyond tormenting me. "…by venturing into another faction's headquarters."

"I…" I take a deep breath. He would kill me if he knew what I was, I can feel it. His hands curl into fists. I am alone here; if something happens to me, no one will know and no one will see it.

"You are very lucky, Tris," he says. "I'm not allowed to kick you out…not yet." What does that mean? He's a Dauntless leader, he can do whatever he wants. Unless, of course, Jeanine tells him not to. But why would she tell him not to kick me out?

"But," he continues with a smirk, "because you seem to be so attached to your previous faction…perhaps I will be forced to reconsider your friends' ranks. Perhaps the little Abnegation girl inside of you would take that more seriously."

"I…" I try and start again but it's hard to breathe.

I open my mouth once more but this time no sound at all comes out. I remember Christina crying in Mimi's arms after she had to face Lauren's fear of getting kicked out of Dauntless. I couldn't make her suffer that for real. Forget what Jeanine says; if anyone should be suffering for my mistakes, it's me.

But I can't bring myself to voice all that, and I don't have to. The door opens and Tobias enters, looking utterly exasperated by the scene before him.

"Eric," he sighs, "what are you doing?"

"Get out," Eric snarls. I don't know what he's planning to do with me, but I know it can't be good.

"No. Look, she's just a stupid girl; there's no need to drag her all the way up here and interrogate her."

He snorts. "'Just a stupid girl'? If she were 'just a stupid girl' she wouldn't be ranked first, would she?"

Tobias pinches the bridge of his nose and looks at me through the spaces between his fingers. He is trying to tell me something. I think quickly. What advice has Four given me recently? The only thing that comes to mind is vulnerability.

"I…I was just embarrassed and didn't know what to do." I put my hands in my pockets and look at the ground. Then I pinch my leg so hard that tears well up in my eyes, and I look up at Eric, sniffing. "I tried to…and…" I shake my head.

"You tried to what?" Eric presses.

"Kiss me," Tobias interjects. "And I rejected her, and she went running off like a five-year-old. There's really nothing to blame her for but stupidity."

There's a pause. Eric looks between us like he doesn't believe it.

I think that he's not convinced but then out of nowhere he laughs, too loudly and for too long. The sound is menacing and grates against my ears like sandpaper. "Isn't he a little old for you, Tris?" He asks with a manic grin.

I wipe my cheek like I'm wiping away a tear. "Can I go now?"

"Fine." Eric waves us off. "But don't leave the compound without supervision again, got it? And you," he looks at Tobias, "you make sure that none of the others try what she did; leaving the compound or kissing you."

He rolls his eyes. "Noted."

I leave the room and my knees are shaking, my hands are shaking, my whole body's shaking. I don't want to be here, I'm glad that he saved me but I don't want to be around him with his words still too fresh in my mind. I walk faster and so does he to keep pace with me. When we turn a corner, he stands in front of me with his arms crossed.

"What?" I say, sounding tired and angry at the same time.

"Are you alright?" His voice is as soft as imagine it can be.

I huff. "Well, first I got chewed out in front of everyone, and then I had to chat with the woman who's trying to destroy my old faction, and then Eric almost tossed my friends out of Dauntless, so yeah, it's shaping up to be a pretty great day, Four."

He shakes his head, glancing out the window.

"Why do you care, anyway?" I say. "You can be either cruel instructor or concerned boyfriend." I tense up at the word "boyfriend." I didn't mean to use it so flippantly, but it's too late now. "You can't play both parts at the same time."

"I am not cruel." He frowns at me. "I was protecting you this morning. How do you think Peter and his idiot friends would have reacted if they discovered that you and I were…" He sighs. "You'd never be able to win, not with them and not with Eric either. No one would see your rank as being anything more than favoritism." He drops his voice. "And with the way that your friends turned on you a few days ago, I don't think they would take it very well either."

I want to object, but I can't. I want to tell him to have a little more faith in my friends, who he's going to have to learn to like if he thinks our relationship is going anywhere, but he's right about them too. I think even Mimi, who does really seem to have faith in me even if I am her competition, would see my rank as a little sketch. I dismiss the comebacks that come to mind and stare at him blankly.

"You didn't have to berate me to prove a point though," I say.

He puts his hands on his hips. "Wouldn't I have done the same to any of the others? Loudmouth, Ice Queen, Know-It-All, Stabby or any of his lackeys. I've never gone easy on you before, have I?"

I almost laugh at the fact that he calls Peter '_ Stabby _'. Maybe that's making too light of a situation that nearly ended an initiate's life and most certainly ruined it. But something about it is just hilariously ridiculous. And he's never exactly been one to cut us any breaks, not for anything no matter how small. He put a gun to Peter's head on the first day, threw knives at my head for sticking up for Al (though that was more Eric's fault than his), and has been fighting with Mimi since the first night – which isn't great even if she does sometimes deserve it. I can almost - _almost _\- see why Mimi might resent him for that, why everyone else resents him for that.

"Besides," he continues, "you didn't have to go running off to Erudite just because you were upset with me either. But you did." He rubs the back of his neck almost sheepishly. "Besides, it all worked out, didn't it?"

"At my expense," I mutter.

"I didn't think it would hurt you this much." He looks down. "It's easy to forget that you're capable of being hurt."

I shove my hands in my pockets and rock back on my heels, offering no response. It's almost sweet of him I guess; he did what he did because he believed in my strength. But...I'm still a person; I'm still hurt by things just like anyone else.

Maybe not him though.

Back in Abnegation, Caleb was the strong one. He was strong because he could forget himself, because all the traits our faction valued came naturally to him. I've never had someone believe in my strength, not even me.

I stand on my tiptoes and lean in to kiss him, he still has to lean down for our lips to meet.

"You're brilliant," I say. "You know that? You always know exactly what to do."

He shrugs. "Maybe." He gives me another quick kiss. "I've had practice with the initiation thing. But I've got to say, out of the three classes I've had I really do think yours is the most...interesting."

I chuckle. "Your favorite?"

He thinks on it for a minute, then says, "Let's just stick with interesting." That draws another laugh out of me. He calls us his problem students and I guess that's kind of accurate, my friends that are left seem to make it their business to personally annoy him - Christina and Mimi in particular. And then Peter is just...eugh.

"As for the whole relationship thing...I've thought about it a lot. How I would handle it if you and I…" He pulls back and smiles. "Didn't you call me your boyfriend, Tris?"

I flush. I'd been hoping that he'd missed that part. I guess nothing gets past him.

I shrug. "Not really. Why? Do you want me to?"

He slips his hands over my neck and presses his thumbs under my chin, tilting my head back so his forehead meets mine. For a moment he stands there, his eyes closed, breathing my air. I feel the pulse in his fingertips. I feel the quickness of his breath. He seems nervous. Maybe it's possible that he's just as new to this as I am.

"Yes," he says finally. Then his smile fades just slightly. "Do you think we managed to convince Eric that you're just a silly girl?"

"I hope so," I say. "Sometimes it helps to be small. I'm not sure I convinced the Erudite though."

His smile melts into a frown. "There's something I need to show you."

"What is it?"

He takes my hand. "Follow me."

He leads me out of the Pyre toward the Pit, but then ducks into a hallway that I don't think that I've ever noticed before.

"Where are we going?" I ask. The more corners we turn, the fewer people we pass until we're totally alone.

He turns his head to look at me. "Do you trust me?"

I nod.

"Then keep walking."

I let out a soft laugh. "I think Mimi's right, I think you do enjoy being cryptic."

He rolls his eyes. "I'm not being cryptic. Mimi just doesn't know how to listen. You do though. You understood what I was getting at the first time I asked, didn't you?"

I bite my lip. "You mean my...uh...condition?"

He nods.

As we continue to walk, the ground starts to slope. The tunnel widens marginally and the lights become more white than orange. Then I hear the rush of water around us and that's when I look up. We're underwater, and I'm instantly reminded of my water tank fear. It fills me with dread and wonder at the same time.

"Where are we?" I whisper.

"Underneath the Chasm. Come on, this isn't even the strangest part."

We keep walking and I'm relieved when we're out from under the glass, that sense of dread and wonder remains though. Going off of the structure alone, it seems like we're standing in the Pit. But the lights here hold a blue tint to them, and there are more levels, and weirdest of all we're completely alone. The alabaster walls seem almost brand new and the floors are unsettlingly pristine for this being a part of Dauntless. The silence is eerie, and after weeks of becoming accustomed to the constant dull roar that was Dauntless, this almost feels like a dream - like something that shouldn't and doesn't exist in the real world.

"What is this place?" I look around, awe filling my voice.

"Welcome to the other half of Dauntless," Tobias says.

"This place is like a ghost town," I say. "How did you find it?"

"On accident. I've never had the time to explore the whole place, but it really seems to me like no one's ever lived here. This place, Neo Dauntless as the plaque dubs it, was dedicated in 463."

I look around, this place isn't much younger than my parents speaking relatively. But it doesn't look that way, it looks like it's can't be more than a year old, like they should be moving people in any day now.

"Let's keep walking," he says before I can ask any more questions even though every part of me is desperate to.

We continue around the top level down still another hallway. After many twists and turns we come across a door that's slightly ajar. On the other side of it I hear...noise. Voices and the humming of machines, sounds of construction that I shouldn't hear in a place like this.

"What is that?" I whisper.

He waves for me to follow him as he ducks through. I gasp, but follow him, and he pulls be behind a bunch of stacked crates. We creep in hiding past servers the size of refrigerators, more crates than I can count, and all the cables in the world running across the floor. We stop eventually and both peek over the box. On the far side of the room, people are setting up screens and terminals, many of them Erudite while Dauntless carry around heavy looking crates. And all of this is under the direction of a man and a woman both in Erudite blue.

The woman is older looking, her long brown hair harshly scraped back into a ponytail and a pair of glasses resting on her face. She snaps at a Dauntless to be careful around the cables and then paces around the room, holding her tablet close to her chest and occasionally stopping to hover over an Erudite's shoulder as they work.

The man paces as well, even more short with the Dauntless than the woman is. He occasionally glances down at the tablet in his arms, pausing to type or tap something. His black hair sits flat against his head, a section hanging in his face every time he looks down at his tablet. He eyes all around him with scrutiny, narrowed eyes and his face in general hardset in a stern expression. He's handsome I guess, objectively, not like Tobias but handsome nonetheless.

I've seen that woman's hairstyle before, I swear. It takes a moment of thinking but then I recall Jeanine's entourage, most of them dispersed with curt goodbyes as I approached but I was able to catch a few faces and hers was one of them. She was talking to an older man in a lab coat and muttering under her breath about being late for something.

The man is more familiar to me. He looks just like the rest of his family. That must be Mimi's other brother, not Mark - I know that he's the Amity one - but I don't know the name of the second.

"Who are they?" I whisper.

"I don't know," he whispers back. "I've seen them here before, but I've never caught a name." We watch them for a little while longer, most of the talking is just shouted directions and every time the woman speaks it's filled with nothing but technical jargon I couldn't begin to understand. The man speaks mainly to the Dauntless; slowly, sternly, and with an almost insulting degree of simplicity that I know the Erudite aren't predisposed to. It's clear to me that he doesn't think the people setting up the equipment are very smart. He probably doesn't think very highly of Dauntless in general.

"We should go," Tobias whispers in my ear, making me jump just a little. "Before they decide to unpack whatever's in these boxes."

We creep out again, careful not to shut the door and draw attention to ourselves. Back in the hallway again, we walk back to Neo Dauntless and this time walk down into the lower levels.

"I had no idea this was here," I say.

"No one does. I think that's kind of the point now, with whatever Erudite's planning."

I give him a strange look, skepticism arising within me. Just because I don't like Erudite, doesn't mean that Dauntless is in on their schemes. "How do you know they're planning something."

"You think they're not?" He raises his eyebrow. "Their discrediting of Abnegation is the only part of their plan?"

"No, but–"

He chuckles. "I think Mimi's starting to rub off on you."

My mouth pinches down into a frown. "You really don't like her, do you?"

"She's Carolina Captor-Malachite's daughter; and, frankly, you've heard her talk, right? Whose side do you think she's really on?"

I don't want to admit that he's right. Mimi is my friend, she cares about me and I care about her. But still, it feels like she's uncomfortably attached to Jeanine and Erudite in general. I don't know everything about her past, but I know that she grew up a whole lot wealthier than I did. Her life has never been anything but privileged, I guess if I were her I would want to hold onto it to. It didn't matter if a faction I was raised not to like got hurt in the process.

And I think of her brother back in that room, helping – leading whatever it is they're planning – and her mother at Jeanine's side. If her family's so entangled in this, she must know too. Which means she's keeping something from us.

"Two things about me," Tobias says. "First is that I have a knack for picking out the worst in people; it's, like, an intuition thing and I'm someone who's deeply suspicious of other people in general. The second is that I'm unexpectedly good with computers."

I nod, remembering that he said his other job was working computers. I don't remember what though.

"A few months ago, before training started, I was at work and I found a way into the Dauntless secure files. Apparently we are not as skilled as the Erudite are at security," he says, "and what I discovered, though most of it was either redacted or intentionally vague, was unsettling to say the least. It was supply lists, maps, commands, some kind of choreography. All of it was sent by Erudite under the name Project Atlas. Now, I haven't been able to see any of what's on Erudite's end with this project, they're not exactly easy to hack and honestly I'm not really a hacker in general–"

"So how did you get into the files?" I ask.

"Uh…" He looks away and then shakes his head. "It doesn't matter. Point is, I did. I can't say what it all is exactly, but they seem like preparations for some sort of an attack to me."

"An attack?" Listening to my father insult Erudite all my life has had an effect on me, I won't pretend like it doesn't. It's made me wary of them. My experience in Dauntless has, as a whole, made me wary of authority and people in general, very much like Four. All of this makes me unsurprised that one faction could be planning some kind of attack.

"On Abnegation?" I guess.

"Who else? I mean, they're Erudite's only enemy _and _the only one seriously willing to challenge their power."

"Are you sure? I mean, wouldn't…Candor want things to be fair at least. Not achieved violently. And for that matter, Amity too."

"See you say that, but think about who's in power. Who wouldn't challenge Erudite because it would personally be in their interest not to?"

I wrack my brain trying to figure it out. This has something to do with the factions' leaders, but I've never paid much attention to their politics before. It's unbecoming of an Abnegation to take an interest in, well, anything. And here in Dauntless I'd say that politics are the least of my worries.

He gives up on letting me guess after a long silence. "Nine and seven years ago respectively, Carolina Captor-Malachite's two eldest children – Mark and Minerva Malachite – left Erudite for Amity and Candor. Six and three years ago, they became their factions' representatives. There's always been controversy about that, but it's been hand-waved with '_ Faction before blood _'. But correct me if I'm wrong, that family doesn't exactly seem detached to me."

I've never had a conversation with any of Mimi's family members. On Visiting Day, my mother dragged me off before I could get the chance. But I remember how they all looked together, happy, I remember how Mark approached Mimi on our excursion to the fence and how happy they were to see each other. And how many times has Mimi casually thrown out that she doesn't care about '_ Faction before blood _'? I wonder where she would have gotten that idea from.

I glance at Tobias. "I didn't realize you were so into politics."

"That's an Azalea thing. One of the things I picked up from her, for better and for worse, was to always pay attention."

As he talks, a startling realization comes to me. Abruptly changing the subject, I say, "Are you sure we should be talking about this so openly? I mean…the cameras and all."

"That's the thing, the cameras don't monitor back here. It's useless because no one lives here, and I wouldn't be surprised if now it was so that we couldn't see what Erudite's working on back there."

"I still don't understand what Erudite would have to gain from starting a war," I say. "I mean, they get the control they want but then they've shattered five hundred years of peace. Then no one wins."

"I don't think that matters to them," he says. "Besides, once Abnegation's gone all that's left is Candor and Amity. Amity won't fight on principal, so even if they wanted to fight Erudite – which I'm pretty sure they don't – they can't. Their people aren't trained to fight and Erudite has Dauntless under their thumb to do all the fighting for them. It's a lot easier to win a war when you're the only ones really fighting."

It isn't hard for me to believe. Not when Erudite doesn't have any real concept of morality, the closest thing they have to a moral compass is their own ambition. I think that, if nothing else, Caleb made me very sure of that.

"I wonder…" he says as he turns around and we begin to walk back, "how do you figure they're going to get us to fight?"

I'm quiet for a long time before I just shake my head. "I don't know."

I'm not surprised that Erudite would do something so awful to Abnegation, who can't and won't defend themselves against them. But what I wonder is what I'm supposed to do with this knowledge. It's clear to me that Four hasn't figured it out either. Go to the council is my first instinct, but would they believe me? And even then, it's my word against Jeanine's, and Carolina's, and Max's, and Eric's, and every other Dauntless and Erudite higher-up who is complicit in this scheme.

Tobias' question continues to nag at me.

How do they plan to get us to fight?


	34. Chapter 34: Something Different

**Mimi**

After the fiasco this morning, we're sent to the training room where we spend the rest of our day doing physical training. Tris doesn't reappear the whole time and Four seems really annoyed about it; he slinks around snapping corrections at people. I don't even bother with a comeback, I have more important things on my mind. More important things like stressing about the final test. I know that it's weeks away, but that doesn't mean it doesn't worry me. It's one thing to do what I did in front of my instructors, but I know that the leadership – or at least Eric – are actively looking for Divergent and I'm still not quite sure what might give me away.

In the interlude between training and dinner, Christina, Will, and I wander around idly. It's starting to feel lonely in a way, with both Tris and Al gone often and permanently respectively, and Christina and I being a couple now makes Will sort of the third wheel. I don't know what Will's deal is, but he's been acting strange around us lately. It just feels like we've suddenly drifted apart for no reason. He doesn't talk as much, stares off into space like he's upset about something, and all around just isn't himself. Even now, we're just doing what we usually do and he looks like he doesn't want to be here.

Eventually, we get tired of walking and sit down on one of the benches against the railing that overlooks the lower levels of the Pit.

"I think I'm gonna go back to the dorms," Will says, not sitting down next to us.

"Aw." Christina looks up at him wearing a little pout. "Why?"

"Um." He eyes flicker over to me for some reason, then back to Christina. "I'm just…uh…tired."

Christina frowns. "That was probably the worst attempt at lying I've ever heard. What is it?"

"I really don't feel up for being out…" He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Well we can do hang out back in the dorms then." I squeeze Christina's hand. "Right, Chris?"

"Yeah, of course. You should have said something sooner."

"No, you two have your fun I wouldn't want to, uh, be a downer or anything."

"You're our friend," I say. "It's really nothing."

"It's not nothing." He starts to sound like he's growing irritated with me. "You guys are having a good time. And I…I just want to be left alone."

"Something's wrong," Christina says in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Nothing's wrong." He looks away.

"What is it?" She steps toward him and he steps away, which I don't think he's ever done before and Christina seems hurt by it. "Did I–" she glances back at me. "– we do something? You've been acting kind of weird lately."

"It's nothing, Christina. You didn't do anything; I'm fine." He draws in on himself, still not really looking at us.

"You're very clearly not." I let go of Christina's hand and step closer, putting my hand on his shoulder only for him to shrug me off.

"Just…leave me alone." He turns and walks away. I start to follow him but Christina takes my hand again, stopping me.

"Let him go. He doesn't want to be around us clearly."

"I…what happened?"

She stares in the direction that he left with sad eyes. "I don't know."

I shake my head then we start walking in the other direction, no longer so tired of walking. I mutter to her, "We have too much drama in this group."

She nods. "_ Way _too much."

Not even five minutes later, we run into Tris.

"Hey," Christina says. "Where have you been?"

She shrugs off the question. "What's up with you guys, you look sad?"

"Will's acting kind of weird," Christina says. "He didn't want to hang out, he kind just shrugged us off. He's just…not been himself. Have you noticed?"

Tris shrugs. "Not really, no. But I guess you guys do spend a lot more time with him than I do."

I don't really think that she notices how weird that is. We're a group, we're not supposed to be all broken up like this. We were practically inseparable through stage one and then…

And then those fear simulations broke us apart; made us unsteady, shifted things in the way that we acted and the way that we trained which in turn shifted things in our dynamic because initiation is kind of our entire lives right now. We don't even look the same anymore, I would wager that we haven't looked the same for a while.

But I miss not having Tris and Al – especially Al – around; I miss their presence in the group, their own unique brands of humor. How are we so suddenly just not as close? I care about Tris and I care about Will and I know that they care about me too and this friendship is everything to all of us. I really don't think I would have made it this far without my friends right next to me every step of the way.

"You guys wanna…get some tea or something?" she says.

I search her face for some sort of change; a sign that she isn't as alright as she's been pretending to be. But she gives Christina and I a soft smile as Christina nods and we start walking toward the café that Uriah showed us back when we were all still in sync with each other and felt like we were starting to know what we were doing.

I don't know where that feeling went, but I'd really like it back.

* * *

Tris takes a long drink of her steaming tea. We're sitting in the cafe Uriah introduced us to, the one Christina and I went on our first official date in. Now we're here to try and shore up the holes in our friendship so we don't lose another person.

"Have you noticed that something's up with Will?" Christina says.

She shrugs. "Sort of, I guess. I mean he and I have never really been close but now all he wants to do is hang out. I mean, I like him and all but…I always thought of the three of you as kind of like a power trio."

"Yeah, us too," I say with a sigh. "But he's been weird ever since we started dating. Do you think you could talk to him?"

"Yeah, of course, totally."

Both Christina and I breathe a sigh of relief. Will's never been the first person to open up about his feelings, but it can be kind of hard to stay closed off in front of the force that is Tris Prior.

The rest of our little impromptu coffee outing is almost normal. Almost, glaring absences aside. Trying to talk about things that aren't initiation while still staying in the same pop culture sphere as Tris is hard. We wind up devising a list of movies, shows, and books she absolutely needs to experience before we turn twenty.

What an age to think about. All my life when I'd imagined myself older it was as an Erudite. Now I am Dauntless, and my future self will be Dauntless too. Maybe - hopefully - more Dauntless than I feel right now.

We split up after we've drained our drinks; Tris to go track down Will and force him to open up to her, Christina and I to just enjoy a rare shred of alone time. Our relationship is so obviously brand new in the way we can't seem to stop touching one another as we walk and eventually when we sit down as close as we can without her literally being in my lap.

She leans her head on my shoulder and we watch the bustling activity of the Pit while talking absentmindedly about nothing. Her fingers brush back and forth over my arm and I am sort of lost in the feeling of it. We kind of expect Tris to come and interrupts us again, probably dragging Will in tow, but we actually don't see them until dinner. No matter how much I may love the two of them, I can't help relishing the time alone with my girlfriend. It feels so good to say that.

My girlfriend.

At dinner I greet Will cheerfully, in a better mood than when he left us after maybe a little too much PDA with Christina. But he doesn't seem half as warm, and the whole meal seems to be actively trying to look anywhere but at the two of us. We exchange a look, equal parts confused and disheartened. After dinner, we're able to pull Tris away without Will even really noticing, or maybe just not caring.

"What is his deal?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "I wish I knew. When I tried to ask, he just sort of got upset and wouldn't talk. I've never seen him like that."

"What?" Christina says. "That's not like him at all. He's always...even when he didn't want to...with us…" She makes a frustrated noise. "It's supposed to be different with us."

"I tried to explain that to him," Tris replies. "I told him that this was messing things up _again _and we didn't need anymore drama but then he just got mad and said 'I can't help how I feel!' and then stormed off."

I frown. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Tris shrugs and my frown deepens. For as long as we've known each other, which admittedly is not that long, we've understood each other. We're alike. So what would I be feeling right now? Does he feel left out of the friendship? Lost without Al? Why would he pull away from us, what did we do?

"Why don't I try to talk to him?" Christina suggests. "He might open up to me. Plus I used to be Candor, I can pull anything out of anyone."

"I just hope he's okay. After Al…" I shake my head. "I'm concerned there's something really wrong that he's not letting on."

"Well this is not the time to be keeping secrets," Tris adds. "We've had way too much drama already. At this point I just want to finish initiation and be done."

I nod, "You said it."

"Mhm," Christina agrees simultaneously and then walks off. "I'll let you guys know what's up when I find out."

"In the meantime," Tris takes hold of my arm, "let's go get some dessert."

I smile and link my elbow through hers. "Come on, my sister showed me this great cafe where you can see the stars."

I take her to Urania's, which looks even more incredible at night. In this part of the city, the light pollution isn't as bad, not like in Erudite where it seems like we've literally pulled the stars from the sky and brought them down to earth.

"Oh, Mimi," Tris gasps. "This is incredible."

I think, if I had stayed in Erudite, I might have gone to work out at the telescope if politics didn't work out. I could have been an astrophysicist, watching the universe in motion.

The two of us order some cupcakes and settle into our chairs, for the first time in a while just getting to catch up with one another. Apparently she went to Erudite and met Jeanine and my mom. She rolled her eyes when I asked if they looked okay. I want them to be taking my departure well, to understand it so that I don't have to explain the next time I see them. I don't even know if I'd be able to explain, I'm still trying to explain it to myself.

She laughs at the way I balk when she tells me how Eric almost skinned her alive. I tell her she's never going to get anywhere in Dauntless going around pissing off the leadership like that and she just shrugs and fails to elaborate on how exactly she survived that whole mess. I don't even want to think about what's going to happen at training tomorrow. She slapped Four in front of everyone, what is he going to say to her? I tell her as much and she shrugs that off too, telling me I shouldn't worry but not telling me why. I guess I should be used to her not telling me things at this point, with how much she runs off to get into god only knows what and then comes back like none of it ever happened.

I tell her about my sister, and my aunt, and everything that she's missed while she was off doing whatever it is she gets up to when she's alone.

"I miss being with you guys," Tris says. "It sounds like I've missed a lot. I'm just...going through a lot right now."

"Tris." I reach out my hand to her. "Whatever you're dealing with, you don't have to do it alone. We're your friends, we're here for you.

She shrugs. "I know. I'll...tell you about it some other time. Okay?"

I nod, still concerned.

Eventually we make our way back to the dorm room. To our surprise, Christina is already asleep and Will is nowhere to be found.

I shrug. "Guess we won't be figuring it out tonight."

"See you in the morning, Mimi." Tris waves as she moves toward her bed.

I fall into my own and descend into a rough, turbulent sleep.

* * *

At this point I kind of expect Will to drop down from the bunk every morning. But this time there's nothing. I wake up peacefully on my own and shuffle toward the bathroom.

Christina is there, brushing her teeth, but she avoids eye contact with me in the mirror. When we're both ready, I pull her aside in the hallway so we can talk but she just pulls away.

"Did you find anything out last night?" I ask her, trying to keep up with her quick pace.

"It's really not important," she growls, which only makes me think it's more important.

"Chris, what did he say?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

She skips breakfast and so does Will. In training things are tense, awkward. Will, Christina, and I aren't talking and Tris is picking up on all the tension between us but doesn't seem to know what to do about it. I want to just tell myself that I don't care, that Will will give us our answers in his own time or maybe he won't and that's okay. But it's not, I need to know. I need to fix things between us so that everything can finally be normal again.

Instead of trying to bother either of them for answers I probably won't get, I go look for advice. Pandora listens patiently as I explain the situation to her, nodding.

"Okay," she leans back in her chair, "so Will has been acting weird around you and Christina and now that Christina's tried to talk to him she's acting weird too?"

"That's basically it."

Pandora hums. I can tell when she thinks she's figured it out, see her considering all the parts and pieces before coming to a conclusion. "You know, I think you should talk to Will about it yourself."

"What? Why can't you just tell me?"

"It's really not my place to say it, Mimi. It's between the two of you."

"Since when have you ever, _ever _backed out of my business?"

When we were kids, Pandora was my protector even when I didn't want her to be. My problems were her problems, all of my siblings' problems. That's what it's like growing up with five siblings; I was never alone, not even when I wanted to be.

"You're an adult now, and as an adult I think that you should sit down and talk this out just the three of you. Or before that, just try talking to Will on your own," she snickers, "it should make things pretty obvious."

"Obvious?"

She laughs harder. "Oh, you'll see."

Sure that she won't tell me anything more, I don't stay much longer. The sooner I can talk to Will, the sooner everything can just go back to normal

* * *

I find him hanging over the Chasm, his feet dangling over the edge. The scene isn't unlike how I found Al the night before he died and that thought sends a chill down my spine. He startles when I sit down beside him, but we're both in too dower of a mood to joke about it.

He sighs. "You don't have to come after me every time, you know. Sometimes I just want to be alone."

That hurt. I hadn't even considered that Will might not want to see me.

He must see it, because he reaches out and puts his hand on my arm. "I'm sorry. I'm glad you're here."

I cut right to the chase. "What's wrong? You haven't been yourself lately. Is it Al? Because we're here for you. Will, _I'm _here for you."

"I know." His shoulders shake. "I-I really care about you, and being friends with you means the world to me."

"I know." I put my hand on his arm. "Nothing you could ever say to me would make me not want to be your friend."

He glances away. "Ehhh."

"I care about you." I tighten my grip on his hand. "Christina and I both do, you mean the world to us and we know that you'd never do anything to screw up what we have."

Tears brim in his eyes at that. "Mimi…"

I take his other hand. "Will."

He presses his lips together and just looks at me for a long time, not saying anything. Then he pulls away and pushes himself to his feet.

"Wait!" I start, but he doesn't and I am alone.


	35. Chapter 35: Careful Discovery

Will is avoiding everyone at training the next day, even Tris though she doesn't hesitate to confront him about it. She corners him after lunch and he looks at Christina and I for a long time before walking away. Christina is no better, dancing around him like they haven't been inseparable since the first week.

After what happened at lunch and how awkward breakfast was, I'm in no mood to go to dinner. Instead I drop in on Amelie, who is eating out of a tupperware container as she warms up. She waves me over and talks me through some stretches in between bites of curry. I tell her what's been going on, my confusion about Will, my confusion about Christina, my confusion about everything. Everything is changing all over again and I feel like I can't keep up.

Amelie is quiet for a long time, turning something over in her mind before she finally says. "It sounds like Will has a crush."

I shoot up from my stretching position. "What?!"

She nods, taking another bite. "Oh, totally. It's so obvious. He's either got feelings for you, or Christina, or maybe both but he doesn't want to mess up your friendship so he's just angst-ing over it."

"That…" I want to tell her that she's wrong, that surely something else must be going on because it's _Will_ and we've always just been really close and that's how we are. But instead I find myself saying, "That actually makes a lot of sense."

"Yeah, I know. I've got a nose for this stuff." She pauses. "So are you going to tell him you like him back or…?"

My mouth drops open and I quickly start to sputter out that no, and I could never, and - but Amelie just shakes her head.

"Oh, trust me, you totally do and you definitely can. I can tell just from the way you talk about him that you're _gone_ for him."

"But Christina…"

"Oh, her too. Yeah, I can see it. I'm not surprised, honestly. That Tris girl always kind of struck me as a fourth wheel compared to the three of you."

I furrow my brow. What she's saying makes sense, but I can't bring myself to say it. Instead I say, "I think...I need to go."

Amelie nods. "Go talk to your girlfriend. See if you can figure something out. Best of luck to ya, Mimi."

I manage a smile. "Thanks, Amelie."

I actually don't go to find Christina. I wander for a while around the halls of Dauntless. I'm starting to get a better feel of where everything is. It no longer feels like a labyrinth. In fact I would almost go as far as to say that it almost feels like a home.

It was so easy for me to accept that I had feelings for Will, like things had always been this way. Looking back, I guess they had been. It's not like he's unattractive and we've always just _fit_ together in some unquantifiable way. But I could say the same about Christina.. That was the heart of the problem, they weren't different and my feelings about them were the same.

After lights out I slip back into the dorm, unable to face Will and Christina after this new revelation. I try to sleep, but in reality just wind up staring blankly at the space above me where I know Will occupies.

Eventually, my eyes slip closed and I fall into tumultuous sleep.

In the morning, I snap awake to an almost completely silent room. A quick check of the time tells me that it will be at least another fifteen minutes before my classmates begin to stir. I decide to spend those fifteen minutes letting my thoughts spiral endlessly in the shower. The water running down my body as I try to think. After everything that's happened, this feels so trivial. After everything we've been through, this should be a non-issue. What's a little crush between friends?

But I am, in the end, only human and I am pulled around by my feelings much more than I like.

Breakfast is a quiet affair, with Will, Christina, and I exchanging awkward glances while Tris becomes increasingly frustrated trying to start conversations to no avail. As soon as I'm finished, I get up and head to the training room without waiting for any of them.

My thoughts are a blur but nothing is coherent, all fragments of sentences and humming. When i'm like this, getting moving is actually just what I need. It quiets my thoughts just a little bit so that I'm able to focus on the task at hand. I would almost say that I haven't done this well since Al died.

Four seems to notice too, though he doesn't say anything as he prowls around the room. He's been quieter ever since the incident with Tris in the fear landscape. Dare I hope she slapped some sense into him? Showed him that he's teaching style of throwing us into the deep end and getting annoyed when we inevitably mess up isn't effective. I doubt it, if there's one thing I've learned about Four it's that he doesn't really take criticism.

When it's time to spar I pair up with Rumi rather than anyone from my friend group. The morning stretches into what feels like so much longer than the four hours it really is. If time flies when you're having fun, I guess the opposite must be true as well.

When we break for lunch, Christina grabs my hand and drags me off into a side hallway.

"I need to talk to you," she says, "and, um, well…" She takes a deep breath and blurts out,, "I have a crush on Will."

At the same time I say, "I think Will has a crush on you."

Those two statements hang in the air between us for a long time until I finally force out the words, "Do you want to break up?"

"What?!" She takes a step back, alarmed. "No! Why? Do you, because I guess it's totally cool if you want to go back to just being friends or-"

"No, but don't you, like, want to date Will?"

"Yeah," Christina says with an implied question mark at the end. "Sort of. But I want to date you too. I - I care about you a lot, that's not to say that I don't care about him because I do but...but...I don't know. What about you?"

I rub the back of my neck. "Well...I think I also have a crush on Will."

"Oh," she says softly. "Do you think he…"

"Yeah. I do."

"Cool," Christina says in a tone that suggests it is not very cool at all. "Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool. This is a very...cool situation that we're in."

I laugh. "Can you believe that after, after everything we've gone through _this_ is the thing that's tripping us up?"

She snorts. "Oh my god, yeah." We're quiet for a few seconds, then she moves forward and hugs me. "I care about you a lot, Mimi. Even if things go to shit and we break up, I'm always going to care about you."

I sniffle and hold her tight. "Yeah, yeah, I care about you too."

I know it's too soon to say that I love her, but god do I want to.

Rather than go to dinner, Christina and I go to Pandora, who accepts us gladly. She cooks for us in her small kitchen while we talk idly about how initiation is going. When we're eating she wonders aloud when she'll get to meet my other friends, especially this mysterious Will figure. She winks at us both and we blush.

"Actually," Christina says, "that's what we wanted to talk to you about."

We tell her everything, occasionally stepping on each other's words to clarify a point or tell another side story. Apparently Will had gotten really upset when Christina talked to him and had practically fled the scene, but she had known what was up. It's probably nothing, of course, just stupid teenage drama.

Pandora stops us short when she snorts. "You guys aren't being stupid, you're polyamorous." She snickers to herself. "Of course it's possible to love more than one person, people do it all the time. D-" whatever she was about to say, she stops short and clears her throat. "It sounds like what the two of you need to do is have an open and honest conversation with will about your feelings for him, then take it from there."

Christina opens her mouth, but pauses with a pensive look on her face. Then she closes it again and leans back in her chair.

Pandora leans forward, putting her elbows on the coffee table and holds her hands out. I take them both.

"If you really care so much about this boy, then go and get him."

"But…"

She squeezes my hands and leans closer to me. "Mimette, what are you afraid of?"

I chuckle. "Heights, dying, um blood-" She cuts me off with her laughter.

"Be serious. Christina?"

She looks up, her fingers twisted up in her hair and pure fear in her eyes. I take one of my hands from Pandora's and put it on her knee. "What if we fall apart?" her voice shakes as she speaks. "After everything that's happened…" she buries her face in her hands. "We're already down to four."

Pandora looks between us, nothing but sympathy in her expression. "Is that what you think will happen? After everything you've been through, you'll fall apart over a bout of romantic drama?"

"Well when you put it like that," I trail off with a nervous chuckle.

"I think you four care far too much about each other for something like that to happen. Your friendship, your love is a beautiful thing, girls; and it would be a shame for you two to let fear steal away the opportunity for everything to go so right."

Christina nods and then I do as well after a moment of hesitation.

"Well then go get him."

We stand and I lean across the table to wrap Pandora in a hug, and Christina joins. "Thank you," I mutter.

She looks from Christina to me and smiles, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Be brave, girls. Tell me how it goes."

"So...what do you think?" I say as we walk down the hallway back toward the dorms.

Christina shrugs and takes my hand. "I don't know. I mean, she's right. I do like Will and I like you too but...Well, how do we even have that conversation?"

I had no ideas to give her. I was still processing the idea of loving both Will and Christina. That sort of thing didn't happen in Erudite. Granted, that wasn't much of a metric for anything. There were a lot of things that weren't supposed to happen in Erudite.

"Should we just, you know, come right out and say it?"

I don't know." That seemed like the best option, but there wasn't exactly anything to compare it to. I couldn't conceive of another option because I had no idea what our options were. Pandora said have an open and honest conversation, but how does someone even start something like that?

"I don't know." Christina stretches. "I'm exhausted anyways. We can figure out what to do tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," I repeated, not at all sure what that would bring.


	36. Chapter 36: Good Things Come In Threes

As it turned out, we barely had time to work it out the next day. Training was even more grueling than usual for something. Or maybe we're just getting close to the end and I'm tired.

Marlene sidles up to me after lunch when I'm alone getting still more coffee. Some Erudite habits are hard to break. "Hey Mimi." She wraps her arm around my shoulders.

"What's up?"

"I'm glad you asked." She smiles. "After dinner we're all going up to the roof. Another rite of passage. Want to come?"

"Always," I replied.

"Great!" There was something off in her voice, but I couldn't quite place it. Mischief maybe? "See you then." She left me and I see her walk up to Lynn and Uriah. They exchange a few brief words before heading out.

For a moment I consider that it's a little weird she didn't tell me what exactly this rite of passage is. Then again, she didn't exactly tell me about ziplining either.

After dinner she shows me the way to a back stairwell that leads up to the roof that we first jumped onto. It's strange being up here now. Stranger still is seeing Tris with her arms crossed and Lynn with a very confused Christina.

"What's going on?" I ask.

Marlene is checking her phone and not in any way paying attention to me.

The door opens again and Uriah leads Will in with an arm around his shoulders. He looks at us with alarm and tries to turn around, but Uriah's grip is too strong for that.

"Okay," said Tris, "so this is…" She looks at Lynn. "What did you call it?"

"An intervention." Lynn crossed her arms. "We're sick of y'all dancing around each other and being weird."

"What?" said Will, his voice cracking spectacularly.

"You can't just avoid each other for the rest of initiation," said Tris. "Seriously, it's a nightmare."

Christina and I share a look. If this were ever a time to have an open and honest conversation, I suppose this would be it.

"Just get over yourselves and admit that you've all got crushes on each other," Lynn says.

Will begins to stammer, his face flushed. Christina buries her face in her hands and I feel heat rush to my cheeks.

"That's not - I don't - What are you talking about?" Will laughs nervously.

We all stared at him, unblinking and his face grew redder.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. That's a lie, I do know what you're talking about. But it's, um, it's not...what you think. Yeah, yeah, that's right. It's not what you think."

"Will," Christina steps toward him, hands out.

He pulls away, flinching back into Uriah. "I - I don't...I'm not…" he sighed. "I'm sorry."

I pull away from Marlene to reach out to Will as well. He looks at us like a cornered animal and just stammers out that he would never do anything to ruin our friendship. "I - I love you guys and-" he stops himself. "I - I didn't mean that. I did mean that, I just didn't mean to say it."

Christina and I look at each other then back at Will who is still stammering and intermittently swearing as he doubles back on various lies.

"Okay, okay, okay." Marlene steps in. "We're going to try something different." She pulls a softball out of her backpack. "This is the speaking ball. We will pass it around and only the person holding it gets to talk."

"You can't be serious," says Christina.

Marlene just raises her eyebrow.

Will laughs nervously. "Come on, we don't really need to do all this."

"I have the speaking ball," Marlene says loudly. "Now we're going to give Will a moment to get his shit together while...Christina talks."

Christina takes the ball. "So, um, like...uh...Will, Mimi and I know that you have a crush on me."

Will starts to protest, but one look from Marlene makes him close his mouth.

"And, like, that's fine. Mimi and I have talked about it because, well…" She gives me a nervous glance. "We think we like you too."

"What?!" WIll exclaims, completely heedless of Marlene's look.

"Oh thank god," says Lynn at the same time, drawing chuckles from the others.

"So we were talking to my sister about it," I attempt to explain, "and she was like, 'oh yeah you guys are just poly' which is like...cool I guess. But only if you're cool with it because if you're not then-"

Will flings himself at the both of us, burying his face between our shoulders. Reflexively my hand wraps around his waist, it brushes Christina's. We share a look as Will tries to stop hyperventilation.

"Are you okay?" Christina asks.

"Oh my god," Will murmurs, his voice muffled.

Tris and the Dauntless-born trio are all now shuffling awkwardly from foot to foot, caught between watching what's happening and giving us our privacy.

"So, um…" I start with no end to that sentence in mind.

"Um…" Will lifts his face at last, bright red cheeks and a giddy grin splitting his lips.

Christina starts laughing, then so do I and Will is laughing too. He squeezes us close. Then there's another set of arms around us, Marlene.

"Come on guys." She nods toward us to the others. "Group hug time."

"Shouldn't we give them some space," Lynn suggests.

Marlene just laughs. "And miss congratulating the happy throuple? No. C'mere."

Uriah comes in first, then Tris, and finally Lynn. In this tangle of limbs and breath I've never felt more secure in my life. Will is looking at Christina and I, starry-eyed. When Christina leans in to kiss him, I think he would have fallen if not for the support of the group. I kiss him as well, quickly and his hand comes up to tenderly caress my cheek.

"Okay." Lynn pulls away first. "This is about as much pda as I think I can take."

Tris nods in agreement, also pulling away.

"We should probably give them some privacy." Uriah winks and my cheeks flush, Christina buries her head in my shoulder, embarrassed as well.

"Oh stop." Will flaps his hand at them. "Go away."

"Well, if you insist." Marlene and the others leave us alone on the roof with the sun starting to set.

"Will," Christina says quietly, "are you sure about this."

He grins. "I've never been so sure about anything in my life, Chris. A-are you sure? Mimi?"

I grin back at him. "Will, I care about you so much. I couldn't be happier."

We watch the sun set together on the roof, talking about things that don't matter for the first time in days, bantering back and forth, and - occasionally - kissing. Slowly, the streetlights below come on one by one and the last orange rays of light fade, the perfect ending to a day I'm sure to remember for the rest of my life.


	37. Chapter 37: What It All Means

The day of the test comes up too fast. I wake up almost sick with nerves just like Visiting Day, a very similar kind of pressure sitting pretty right inside of my gut. I think we all feel it though, which I guess in some ways makes it better. When I sit up, bleary eyed and groggy the room is as quiet as I've ever heard it and I guess that's really saying something. I stretch and accidentally punch the bed above me. From above me, I hear Will snicker.

"I don't think that I'll ever quite be used to that," I murmur.

"Mmm. I don't think you'll have to, we'll be gone by tomorrow," he replies sleepily. "No more drafty dorm rooms for us." He jumps down from his bunk and shivers when his feet touch the floor.

"Lord have mercy, I hope the apartments are better heated then this dorm," he mutters.

I snicker. "Don't you know, cold ass floors are supposed to teach us bravery."

He scoffs and rolls his eyes as he presses a kiss to my lips. He twirls one of my curls around his finger as he pulls away, smirking.

I jokingly push his face away from mine. "Go brush your teeth."

He chuckles. "You just want to go back to sleep."

I hum. "Maybe so. The tests don't start until after lunch you know. That sounds like plenty of time to sleep to me."

He rolls his eyes. "Just you wait till Chris wakes up. She'll be jumping on your bed like a kid on Christmas, she's been wanting to get the hell out of here since Four first showed us the room I'm pretty sure."

"Will you two shut the fuck up!" Drew exclaims, sitting up halfway and glaring at us. "Some of us are trying to sleep."

We just giggle to each other and he pulls me in for another kiss then shuffles out of the room. I wish that I could say that I went back to sleep after he left, but more accurately I stared at the bottom of the bunk above me until I became bored and dragged myself out of bed to sift through the laundry basket under my bed where I store all my belongings for something halfway decent to wear today.

Back in Erudite, everyone always dressed up for the end of initiation celebrations – and there were a lot of them. I always went to at least two every year and then more if it happened to be someone I knew that was completing initiation, especially if they were family. The way that today would have gone for me if I'd stayed was that I'd probably have been up all night studying for the final exam, dragged my ass to the actual exam room, then I'd go spend what amount of free time I had until the evening getting ready with the dress and makeup I'd bought at least a week in advance. Then there was the formal dinner with all the initiates and Erudite's leadership where they'd announce the results and _if_ I made it through I would probably first wind up with all my parents' smarmy friends then the other initiates, half a dozen smaller parties that I'd have far more fun at than the formal or with my family. I love them to death, I really do, but I could honestly do without their friends.

Part of me still can't believe that I'm really missing it; it is the day that I was raised to anticipate my entire life, not the Choosing Ceremony but the day that I became a fully-fledged member of Erudite.

The day that I took my rightful place within the society where I belonged.

But I did not belong. That's why I'm here, right? Because I didn't belong. God, why am I still questioning that after everything? I've fought heaven and hell to get to this day and I'm still not one hundred percent sure if I made the right choice.

Even though I shouldn't be. Everything is really starting to fall into place. I'm getting the happiness I've always wanted, it just came about in unexpected ways. I mean, Pandora made it work for her, didn't she? Tris makes it work for her, every single other transfer makes it work for them. So why can't I? What is so wrong with me, why can't I just say that I really am happy here and let that be the end of it? It's the end of initiation, my choice has been made and I've proven that I'm serious; there's absolutely no going back.

For better or worse, today is the day that I find out if I really am as Dauntless as I've been claiming to be.

"Mmm. For once I'm actually happy to be up early." Christina sits up, rubbing her eyes with a soft smile on her face.

"Good morning," I say.

"You know, you're right, it is a good morning. And you know why? Because after today we never have to deal with any of this bullshit again." She gets out of bed and makes her way over to me, taking my hands. "No more early wakeup calls, no more snoring roommates, no more underground confinement, or running laps, or sparring, or sims, no more awful instructors who won't learn our names and try to kill us every so often–" She sways our clasped hands back and forth as she lists off item after item on the lengthy list of reasons to be glad that initiation is over.

"I get it," I interrupt her. "These were the worst weeks of our lives."

"Mmm, not entirely." She sits down beside me. "We met each other, didn't we?"

I chuckle. "That's true."

"And now it's just us, and everything the world has waiting for us." She's smiling too much to really kiss me properly, but boy does she try.

"And just what do you have to offer the world?" I abandon my quest for an outfit to sit up on the bed and wrap my arm around her waist.

"A better initiation experience than Four." She laughs at herself. "I think I want to be an instructor. See if I can make the experience a little less traumatizing."

"Make it a little more initia-fun?" Will drops in beside her, laughing at his own joke.

She snorts and rolls her eyes. "God, that was terrible."

He shrugs. "I try."

"Yeah, I know. I'd like you to try a little less." She pulls him in for a kiss that he more than happily returns.

When they pull apart she says, "And what about you? Comedian, I'm assuming."

"No, but I'm flattered you think I'm funny enough that I could make it as one."

She rolls her eyes. "I said that's what you wanted." She pats his cheek. "Not every dream comes true, you know."

He scoffs. "Please, I totally could. But if you must know, I'm going to go and work in the Archives. I start a week from tomorrow. Mimi?"

"Leadership of course. I think that I could make a real difference."

"Like mother, like daughter," says Will with a smile.

Another yawn interrupts the conversation. Tris throws her arm over her face to block out the light and sighs.

"We should really all be getting ready," I say. "It's a big day."

"Oh come on," Christina says. "We have all morning to get ready. Can't we just chill out a little? It's a special day, we're gonna remember this for the rest of our lives."

"Which is why we should go and get makeovers together, all three of us girls and Will if he wants to come."

Will scoffs like I've offended him somehow. "What do you mean '_if_ I want to come'? Of course I want to come."

"But breakfast first, right?" Christina says.

"Yes, of course breakfast first," I reply. "And we should wake Tris if we want to get there while the food is still hot."

"Not my job," Will says, shaking his head. "She's so grumpy in the mornings."

"And out of it," Christina agrees. "Mimi, looks like this is on you."

"It was your idea."

I chuckle. "Fine. Never said I wouldn't."

"I'm gonna go hop in the shower," Christina says, getting up and leaving.

I also get up but cross the room to Tris' bunk instead of to the door. I sit down on the edge of her bed and gently shake her shoulder.

"Tris, wake up. Come on, we're all going for breakfast."

She just mutters incoherently and turns away from me.

"Tris." I shake her with a little more force this time. "Come on. It's the last day; we're gonna do things."

"Ugh, later," she says, her voice muffled into her pillow.

I roll my eyes and lean down next to her ear muttering, "If you don't get up, I will have no choice but get Will to pick you up and carry you to breakfast."

Finally, she rolls over, nearly headbutting me in the process. "Eugh. What, Mimi?"

"You sleep like a rock," I quip.

"Whaaaaat?" she groans.

"Breakfast. Then outings."

She sighs, her eyes beginning to open wider. "What kind of outings?"

"We're going to get ready for the final test. That's what friends do."

"Like…run through our Fear Landscapes?"

I shake my head. "No. God no, I think the others will agree with me when I say that I'd only like to go through that hell one time if I can help it. I meant more along the lines of clothes, a facial, the works."

She huffs. "You guys know I don't really care about that stuff. It's the test that matters."

"Tris, it's fun. God knows we could all use a little more of that in our lives."

"I think you and I define 'fun' in different ways."

I roll my eyes. "Come on. I used to do this kind of thing all the time with my family back in Erudite; it's a bonding experience."

Something about me saying that makes her tense. "Shouldn't we be trying our best to avoid doing anything that we did in our old factions?"

I scoff. "Don't tell me you believe in all that '_faction before blood_' crap? We're about to be fully-fledged adults in our faction. We're free to do whatever we want, however much it does or doesn't remind us of our old homes."

She hums, still sleepy. "I think Jeanine Matthews would disagree."

It's my turn to tense, my smile fading. "Well…I think she'd disagree with a lot of the things I've done while I've been here. I don't really think that's my problem." It hurts to say that. I love Jeanine, she's been like a second mother to me and I want her to be proud of me just as much as I want my actual mother to be proud of me.

She didn't…she didn't skip Visiting Day because she was upset about my choice, did she?

I chew on my bottom lip, then stand up. "I'm gonna go get ready. Wake up."

I stare at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, trying to will myself not to seem so rattled. It shouldn't matter to me, none of it should matter to me. And it's not like my family's agreed on everything before; there have always been and will always be things that divide me from my parents and from my siblings. What's it to me if they don't see everything the same way I do?

Well, I know the answer to that question. It's a lot to me.

But then something Will said at the dinner following Visiting Day surfaces in my mind. '_Even if they don't come around it's not like it matters very much to me anymore. I don't have to care what they think of me_'. And I don't have to care what my family thinks of me either. They know that I'm not their perfect daughter, and I'd never say that that was all that ever mattered to them but I know that it mattered to them. My parents couldn't possibly be more proud of the twins, the only ones who ever really turned out exactly _right_. And they wanted that for me; they wanted if for me so bad and they tried to make me want it to. They wanted me to like and aspire to have the life that they have and I wanted to like it for their sake; I wanted to be like the twins. But more than that, I didn't ever want to hear anything about how _unconventional_ I was ever again or how I was doomed to fail because Mark and Minerva didn't work out at all and the twins will always just be shy of perfect in some peoples' eyes. Because there are so few people who really, _really_ like my family and don't just tolerate us because of who my parents are.

I wanted that. I really did. And I know how happy it would have made everyone if that had been the person that I'd decided to become. And maybe there really was a future waiting for me in Erudite, a way that I could have been happy if I hadn't decided to buck everything that I'd ever known because…because…

Why?

Why am I here?

A hand running over my half-combed hair makes me jump, but it's just Christina, who snickers at my reaction.

"Someone's nervous," she teases.

"Very funny. There's a lot on the line for me today, for all of us."

"I know." She kisses my cheek. "But there's no use totally losing your mind over it."

I give her a gentle smile. "Perhaps you're right."

"'Perhaps'?" she scoffs. "Please. I know I'm right." I finish combing out my hair before she asks, "So were you serious about that leadership comment? Is that really what you want to do?"

I glance at her. "Are you surprised? Look at the family I come from."

"We don't have to, you know, be what our families want. I mean, I guess I can't talk because my parents only ever wanted me to be happy however that happened. But I think Will can kind of relate."

"I know what you're getting at," I say. "But it's not what you think. The only pressure on me to be like the rest of my family is the pressure that I put on myself. I'm not about to fall into mediocrity just because I'm not where they wanted me to end up." I wonder if Belladonna will come and find me. She knows that my last day is today. I still can't tell if she cares at all about me or not; but I think that's fine because I still haven't decided if I care about her either I don't think.

Which is exactly why I don't feel bad for not going out of my way to introduce her to my friends or my partners. She still gets all prickly when I call her my aunt anyways, as far as I'm concerned if she doesn't want to be a part of my family then I'm not going to force a relationship. Whatever problems she has with my mother don't need to become my own.

She's never going to turn me against her either. I don't care how Dauntless I become, my family over in Erudite whom I've always loved with all my heart will always mean more to me a woman whom I barely know and seems to have little interest in knowing me. Whatever beef she has with my mother is none of my concern.

"The end to this day cannot come fast enough," Christina says.

I nod in agreement. "I think that all this waiting is much scarier than anything they could ever throw at us could ever be."

At that moment, Tris shuffles in. She mumbles good morning to us both and then scrapes her messy hair back from her face with a bit of an exaggerated groan.

"Up late?" Christina asks.

She hesitates for a minute before answering, "Couldn't fall asleep. Too excited or something, I guess."

Something's still up with her, I can feel it. I'm almost offended that, after all that we've been through together, she still doesn't feel like she can trust us. I don't believe that Al's death bothers her as little as she says it does. I don't think that any of this bothers her as little as she says it does. These thirteen weeks have forced us all to fundamentally change who we are, I refuse to believe that she's just cool with that. I mean, if I were raised Abnegation then I'd probably be desperate for any sort of change but this does feel a little ridiculous.

"You guess?" Christina must pick up on it too. "This is one of the most important days of our lives. I think some people would argue that our whole lives only start today; nothing before now counts."

"Didn't they say that about the Choosing Ceremony?" Tris raises her eyebrow.

"Good point." I nod.

In truth, I don't think any one day counts as the 'real' start of your life. Just, maybe, the start of a new life. I stand by my idea that 'meant to be's are stupid and destiny is a ridiculous concept; which by extension means that I think that there is no one person that I'm 'meant to be' or whatever. There's just the person that I am right now and how I feel about her.

We wait for Will to finish getting ready and then we all head to breakfast just like we do every morning. Only today is one of the most important days of our lives. We sit down with our food and start talking. Uriah and his friends join us as well, nearly filling up the whole table. Just one chair sits empty, but I brush away the pangs of sadness just for today. We haven't been talking for very long when a pair of hands settle on my shoulders. I look up to see Pandora standing over me, smiling.

"Hey, hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"Of course not," I say, twisting around in my chair to look at her. "What is it?"

"I just figured I'd wish you and your friends good luck today. You all totally deserve to pass."

"Thanks," Will says. "Hope the leadership and instructors agree with you."

She grins at me. "I like him."

"So do I." I squeeze his hand under the table, chuckling. "Hey Pandora, where would we find, like, a spa around here or something?"

She snickers. "You wouldn't. Trust me, I'm as disappointed as you are."

"Mmm. Bummer. Know of any Dauntless pre-final test traditions we could do instead?"

She laughs again. "None that I want to encourage." She pats my shoulder. "Do our family proud."

"Of course." I wave to her as she leaves. "I love you."

"Love you too, Mim."

"Who was that?" Tris asks.

"Pandora. We're, uh, like sisters; she's known me since I was young." I sigh. "So I guess our plans are off. That sucks." I look to Uriah and the others. "Any ideas?"

"We were just going to veg out until our time came. No use worrying about it, right?"

_Wrong_, I respond in my head. Out loud I say, "Right. Veg."

"We could still do something else," Christina says. "I don't really care what we do as long as it's together."

Will laughs. "You're a sap."

"Shut up."

"It's sweet." I kiss her on the cheek. "You like us so much."

She shrugs. "I won't deny it." She gives me a quick kiss on the lips.

Uriah makes a retching sound from across the table. "If you three get sweeter, I'm gonna puke."

"Please," Marlene says. "We'd love to see it."

"Gross," Lynn interjects. "I'm still eating."

"Oh like you couldn't eat through that," Marlene scoffs. "Wouldn't be the first time we've seen Uriah puke."

"Double gross," I interject. "Can we please talk about literally anything else?"

"Like what?" Marlene asks, laughing. "How our final tests are today and the nerves I think are literally going to cause me to have a heart attack before I can even set foot in the Fear Landscape room?" She laughs harder.

"Um," Christina starts. "Marlene, are you okay?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

She presses her lips together. "No reason."

We laugh.

~  
When we're walking in circles around the Pit, as we often do, a voice calls out my name that I don't hear too often. I wave my friends off, even Will and Christina when they try and stay with me, to approach Belladonna.

"What?"

"Relax. I just wanted to wish you luck today. If what I've heard about what's gone on is even remotely true then I'm sure you're relieved that it's all over."

She knows what happened, some of it anyways. She comforted me when I was panicking even though she didn't have to. But…I guess I never did mention to her exactly _why_ I was in that state.

I just shrug. "You have no idea."

She hums. "I can guess. There weren't very many transfers this year, or any of the years before that honestly, but I can guess that the change in management isn't going so hot."

The way that older Dauntless talk about initiation, I'm starting to think that it really is all Eric and Four's fault that it sucks as much as it does. Not that that would surprise me in the slightest; they don't exactly strike me as the most qualified people. Sure they know how to fight, and throw knives, and shoot guns, but they're no less educators than our actual teachers and shouldn't that mean that the people controlling it are vetted properly? In Erudite, there's an entire department devoted to just initiation; I know the department head, she's a former educational psychologist who takes her job incredibly seriously.

And I know – I _know_ – that Dauntless isn't anything like Erudite and I guess I should really stop expecting it to be, but I guess it's just hard to forget all the standards I've been taught to have.

"Anyways," Belladonna says, "I'm sure you'll do great. You don't need me wishing you luck."

"I appreciate it anyways," I say as she's turning away.

That makes her look back, a look on her face like she's trying to smile but can't quite remember how. "If you ever need anything, remember."

I watch her as she walks away, then realize that I no longer have any idea where my friends are. I shrug that off, resigning to find them later. It's not like we were exactly in the middle of anything. Instead I walk to the dance studio, where Amelie is inside talking to a small group of people with their full attention focused on her. I linger in the doorway until she notices me out of the corner of her eye. She never misses a beat in her lecture, but she nods me inside and I sit in the back alcove with the chairs and fridge. While I'm waiting for her to be done, I examine the black bird on the wall. The paint is starting to wear, exposing the carved drywall underneath. I lean forward a bit to get a better look, putting my hand on the small shelf against the wall. My hand slides as I put weight on it, the binder I'd put it on sliding and nearly falling but I manage to catch it. On the front, in big black letters it says '_PHOTOGRAPHS_'.

Being the nosy person I am, I decide to open it.

Assembled like a scrapbook is a collection of beautiful photographs. Some of them are of people – mostly dancers that I presume Amelie works with, but others appear to be candid shots of members of Dauntless – and then there's the landscapes, striking sunsets and starry nights, beautiful trees in every season and close-ups on blooming flowers.

"A hobby of mine," Amelie says behind me, startling me. I turn around to face her and she continues, "I've always liked photography, so mostly I do it for fun but I make a little money off of it from time to time."

"You're very good," I say.

"Thank you. I like to think so as well."

I sit back down in one of the chairs and continue to flip through.

"So," she says, "what did you need?"

I shrug. "Nothing. I just like hanging out in here."

Finally, one picture catches my attention because it's Gwedolyn. A long time ago though. For one thing, she's grinning in a way I've never seen her do, and for another she looks about my age maybe just a little younger, and she's dressed totally in Dauntless black with hints of red. She looks like she's laughing, or had just been laughing. Her hand is scraping her long black hair from her face and her head is turned to the side, maybe she didn't see the camera.

"You, uh, you knew my sister-in-law?" I ask.

She sighs, chuckling under her breath. "No. I didn't take that picture." She reaches across and pulls it from the sleeve. As she holds it in her hands, she smiles rather fondly and runs her thumb over it.

"Oh, well who did then?"

"An old friend." She holds the picture for another moment longer and then shakes her head, her smile dropping. "It's nothing. You can keep the picture, if you'd like. I didn't know her, I have no reason to keep it.

"Are you sure? It seems like it reminds you of whoever took it."

She smiles, but it's more sad this time, her eyes crinkle and that only makes it look more strained. "Like I said, it doesn't matter." She holds the picture out to me. I decide to take it.

"In fact…" she mutters, taking the binder from my lap. She flips through the binder for a second before groaning and shaking her head, but that smile returns. "Looks like this thing is just full of pictures I didn't take. Good thing this isn't my portfolio." She opens the rings and removes the last several pages, beginning to pull pictures from the sleeves.

"You have no use for a lot of these, I assume," she says. "They're pretty pictures, but I'm going to go out on a limb here and assume you don't know any of these people. Don't know what I'll do with them though."

"Well can I see them?"

"Why not?" She hands me the pictures she removed.

I flip through them one by one; a few of an older couple, half a dozen pictures of young Dauntless and not one of them Amelie but many of them Gwendolyn, several candid pictures of the Pit taken from the top floor, then one catches my attention. It's a family, none of them seem to have noticed the camera; there's a little girl playing with dolls on the floor, a man and woman talking – the woman laughing and the man staring at her very lovingly, and an older girl curled up with a book right next to the person taking the picture. The reason that picture catches my attention is because I know the two girls. It's Gwendolyn and Victoria, plain as day, and much harder to recognize half turned away from the camera those must be their parents.

"Can I take this one too?" I ask. "I, um, that's Gwendolyn and Victoria Morgan. I know them. I think they would really appreciate this picture." Their parents' house burned, taking every photograph they had of their parents and themselves with it. I think that they'd really like to have at least this.

"Go for it," Amelie says. "Not like I'm doing anything with it."

So whoever took this picture, and the others too, was close to the Morgans. Gwendolyn never mentions having old Dauntless friends; she's so Erudite that I guess I just kind of always assumed that she never had any to mention. But looking at these pictures, well it seems like she had a whole group of them.

I never would have guessed.

"You have friends, don't you?" Amelie says out of the blue.

I look up from the picture. "Hm?"

"I just…you're always alone when I see you. Do you have friends?"

"Of course I have friends," I say.

"So where are they? Don't you like hanging out with them?"

"Yeah, absolutely. I just got kind of sidetracked here and earlier. I'm fine; you can stop looking at me with that concerned face now."

"What concerned face?" She asks.

"The one that says you doubt what I'm saying and are concerned for my social life."

She chuckles. "Whatever you say, Mimi. So I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say that your glad everything's about to be over, am I right?"

"Yeah. Honestly, I just want to move on with my life."

"And what, pray tell, does that entail?"

I shrug. "Leadership, I guess." The more people have me repeat it the more it sounds like they're trying to get me to change my mind. I know that it's not an easy job, I've had a front row seat to that my whole life. But that doesn't make me want it any less. I've never been a person afraid of hard work; I don't think I would have come as far as I have is I was. I'm strong, stronger than a lot of people give me credit for and I want this.

Bad.

"You guess?" Amelie raises her eyebrow.

I shake my head. "No. That came out wrong. I want to go into leadership; for sure."

That doesn't seem to quite satisfy her either and I don't know what answer she wants from me. "Just…don't feel like you're in a rush to commit to any one thing. Life changes, that's just how things go. In five years you might not be where you think you'd wind up."

_How wise_, I think with no small amount of sarcasm. Out loud I say, "So did you always think you were going to wind up here?"

"Here?" She repeats. "Like this? Oh god no; never. Not even when I was an initiate, back then I'd always envisioned myself an artist, or an athlete, but never a dancer."

"So what changed?"

She looks away, that fond – nostalgic, almost – smile returning. "I met…the most amazing person I think I've ever had the privilege of knowing."

"A partner?" I guess and she laughs.

"No. My mentor actually, she was a good friend of the woman whom I'd been unhappily apprenticing under before and she was the one who encouraged me to join the company. I met my best friend through her actually." Her smile is tinged with sadness, I have a feeling that there's a reason she's only discussed this mentor of hers in the past tense. She shakes her head, pushing back non-existent stray hairs from her face. "Well, it doesn't matter."

"Does it not? I mean, it sounds like you were really close to her."

Her smile gets sadder. "Well, she's dead now so there's nothing that can really be done about that." She lets out a shaky breath and stands. "Come on, you and I can go do something; just give me a minute to change."

"Don't you have to rehearse?" I nod back in the direction of the rest of the dancers. "You've wasted enough time talking to me already."

"Who said it was a waste?" she says. "It's fine, they won't mind at all." She disappears through the back door and I wait for her, continuing to flip through the photos. The two that she gave me, I fold up and put in the pocket of my jacket, making a mental note to give them to Gwendolyn the moment I'm allowed to leave the compound on my own.

I can't imagine what that will be like, to suddenly be free to do whatever I want when that's never been my reality before. There was always something, obligation and stricture that kept me very well behaved and very, very trapped. Part of me imagines that I'll never want to spend another second underground once I've seen the sky again, but another part of me still thinks that it's nothing special. It's just scenery I've seen a thousand times before only now it's through a different lens.

Big deal.

"Ready?" Amelie returns in more casual clothes, the same leather jacket with floral patches she wore the day I met her and I assume it's part of her look. It certainly suits her.

I stand, nodding.

We leave into the Pit, which has grown more chaotic since I woke up. This is different from the usual brand of Dauntless chaos. The whole faction seems to be in party mode, people all dressed up and already drinking.

"So," Amelie says, "what do you want to do?"

I shrug. "What did you have in mind?"

She lightly smacks me on the back. "It's your special day. Come on, there has to be something you do for fun around here, or just in general."

I shrug. "Mostly my friends and I just sit around and talk. Not like there's much else to do since we can't leave the compound."

She snorts. "I'm sorry, Mimi, but that's bull. There's tons to do around Dauntless, and now I feel obligated to show you all of it."

"Oh, you really don't have to–" But despite my protests, she's already grabbed my hand and started pulling me down a hallway I've never even noticed before, chattering at a mile a minute.

"I severely doubt you've found the time to explore the whole compound, I mean some parts of this place are _literally_ five hundred years old. Ooh, I'll bet you've never seen the renovations."

"The what now?" I ask, struggling to keep up with her quick pace.

"Oh, a couple decades ago, the leadership tried to be smart and get ahead of the population growth and take on this massive expansion project. Got through most of it too, they built all these really nice houses and, like, another Pit, and shops, and basically nearly doubled the size of the compound. Problem was, there never came to be enough people to actually fill all this extra space. Most people in Dauntless don't like to have a bunch of kids because it interferes with the lifestyle, plus we never had a ton of transfers to begin with, and…Well, the point is that there's all this stuff west of the Chasm that just sits empty. It's like, I don't know, a ghost town. It's a really nice place, but no one lives there and I think most of Dauntless has pretty much forgotten it exists."

"So how do _you_ know?" I ask.

Amelie's pace slows and her excitement dims. "My, uh, my parents were both historians, they made a real point of making sure that I know all kinds of useless facts."

"You came from Erudite?" To my knowledge, historians are exclusively Erudite.

She grimaces. "Uh…yeah. Look, don't go around telling people that; it's not really something that I like to discuss." She bites her lip.

I guess the transfer shame goes both ways.

"We, uh," she starts then trails off before starting again. "We can't all be like you, wearing our ex-factions like you do. It's…not really done."

"Oh I know," I say, because I do. I know that I am the way that I am because of my family. I never knew the shame that came with transferring from one faction to another until…well until I knew Gwendolyn. Before that everything was the Amity side of my family, the ones that ever gone but never forgotten because that's not how we were. Malachites don't believe in '_Faction before blood_', we believe in family first always.

"Anyways," Amelie says a little too loudly and a little too abruptly, indicating that the subject is closed, "it's way cool, pretty much the only thing cooler is the old part of Dauntless. You know, most of the old places were torn down or just straight up collapsed from age. But us Dauntless literally built on top of our original headquarters."

"So it's kind of like a museum?" I guess.

She laughs. "Do you really think that the _Dauntless_ care that much? That is some Erudite shit, in the eyes of the people that matter at least."

"What's wrong with Erudite?" I ask.

"Nothing. But Dauntless takes pride in having our own traditions and beliefs, as well as the rejection of everything that has to do with the other factions on a fundamental level. I mean," she starts walking backwards to look at me as she talks, "that's nothing new, right? Tell me that's not Abnegation's philosophy exactly?"

I say nothing. It's never occurred to me that Amelie might not have the best opinion of Abnegation, she's always seemed too nice to be like that; to me at least. But I know what she's getting at, and I guess in some ways she is right. Abnegation's staunch refusal to well and truly modernize themselves because it's 'self-indulgent' or whatever, has stagnated them and left them stuck in their ways for a century at least. Erudite isn't wrong, they are kind of backwards, and their whole position in power is because of an issue that took place more than two hundred years ago and I won't say that it doesn't affect our society anymore because _obviously_ it does, but it does strike me as a little strange that our governing faction is living almost entirely in the past.

"Don't get me wrong," Amelie interrupts my thoughts, "what factions do it's…it's really whatever, traditions are traditions and I won't pretend like I don't partake in Dauntless traditions because I do and I enjoy it. But I am not someone who has any love for the good old ways, believe you me."

I spend a lot of my time thinking about my question before I ask it, but I do because I can't get Marlene's voice out of my head. "Amelie, what do you think it means to be Dauntless?"

She gives me a really funny look, then chuckles to herself. It's very similar to the look that Marlene gave me all those weeks ago; amusement and pity mixed together. There's something that I don't understand; that I didn't get then and that I clearly don't get now. I don't know what it is, but it shows on her face.

"I think I'll just go ahead and chalk hat question up to the fact that you're a transfer, and an Erudite one at that."

I furrow my brow. "What does my being Erudite have to do with anything?"

She laughs, clearly amused by my confusion. "I'm sorry. It's not you, I promise. And as for what your being Erudite has to do with it, well you've been raised to question everything and mostly that's a good thing." She pauses. "_However_, and don't take this the wrong way, it also means that you're more prone to asking really stupid questions than anyone else." She has to stop to laugh again, not noticing and/or not caring about the way I'm frowning at her. "And I don't care what your upper levels teachers said, there is absolutely such a thing as a stupid question."

"Indulge me," I say, my voice laced with annoyance.

She giggles. "Okay." She stops walking and I nearly stumble. "It doesn't mean anything." She seems to revel in my confusion. "I'm serious; there's nothing to it. There is no grand meaning, no singular answer. Dauntless is whatever you make it."

"You mean whatever the leaders make it," I say. "They're the only ones who really shape the faction."

It's her turn to furrow her brow. "Is that why you want to go into leadership? Because you think that that's the only way to truly shape Dauntless?"

"To make it somewhere people want to be, yeah I do. It's not the only reason, but it is one."

The smile she gives me is almost pitying. "That's not how it works."

"Then enlighten me. How does it work?"

"Okay, let me put it to you this way: Erudite, they all act the same don't they; frigid, vain, arrogant, callous, they care about themselves and their research and nothing else. Right?"

"Wrong," I say. "I mean, that might have been your experience with the faction and if that's the case then I'm sorry, but that's not all there is to Erudite. That's not how I was, or my friends, or fa–" I almost say my family, but my family cares very deeply for their work, for themselves, and yeah I guess at times I would describe at least a few of them as being kind of frigid, and definitely arrogant. But it's not like that last one is totally unfounded, they are some of the best that the faction has to offer, I would say that they're allowed to be proud of that fact.

"So what would you say it means to be Erudite then?"

I barely have to think about it at all before answering, "To be intelligent, hard working, to have your niche." Amelie's face falls, I think I just messed up whatever she was going for.

I remember Marlene telling me that Erudite were all the same fundamentally, that there was a formula to being one of them. It was almost like a hivemind kind of. There was a look, a way of speaking, a demeanor, a walk even; these were all things that made Erudite and something that absolutely did not exist in Dauntless.

She twirls one of her curls around her finger, leaning against the wall and thinking. "I was kind of banking on the idea that you wouldn't know how to answer me."

I shrug sheepishly. "I figured. Sorry."

"No." She brushes off my apology. "I didn't know how to answer that question at your age. I can't tell if that's better or worse." She laughs. "But I never paid attention or gave a shit, so I guess I wouldn't know."

It belatedly occurs to me that maybe that answer shouldn't come so naturally to me either. I mean, I _am_ supposed to belong in Dauntless not Erudite. I shouldn't know or care about what it meant to be Erudite. But I do, I know because it's been drilled into me since I was a child. I grew up in what I was raised to think was the pinnacle of all that the faction had to offer. My life was about as charmed as it could possibly be, my family embodied everything that Erudite was and so did the people that we socialized with.

At least, that was how it was supposed to go. Clearly, that wasn't a life that Mark and Minerva liked or wanted for themselves. And it wasn't just them, I've known people who couldn't care less about the lives they lived. Casey couldn't care less about what her father wanted for her. My Amity cousins, who know that they have deep roots among the Erudite upper crust, do not care one bit about those roots and frankly don't care for our lifestyle either. They say that any life where people are that unkind for even the smallest mistakes – referring to the gossip that spreads like wildfire – doesn't sound much like a life worth wanting. I guess that had an affect on Mark and Minerva, Mark especially.

"My point is," she says, "there is no one answer to what it means to be Dauntless, or how you're supposed to be Dauntless. That's not how things work around here. The only people that think that are the old faction traditionalists, like Max and Eric; they're both really into the idea that all the factions stay seperate and everyone in them fit very nicely into these little boxes that are honestly just stereotypes. It's really honestly ridiculous."

"I'll, um, keep that in mind," I say. "Where are we going anyways?"

"The renovations. It's open to the public, there's just nothing here."

I follow her, noticing that the floor is turning into an incline that heads down, above us I hear the rush of water.

"Look up," Amelie says."

The ceiling is made of glass and up above us is churning dark water.

"The Chasm," I say.

"Yeah. Erudite had a heavy hand in the renovations, helped fund them and helped design them. This was a way long time ago, back before you and I were born." She chuckles. "Legend has it, the leaders actually got along back then."

Once we're across the Chasm, the tunnel opens up into an area that looks very much like the Pit, but everything is cast in blue and white light and the stone seems cleaner - newer. But the whole place is barren; no shops, no people, just empty spaces and dead silence.

"Wow." My voice echoes in the silence, the whole place has an eerie feel to it. "How do they power this place?"

"Oh, like I said, they finished the entire structure - wired it to the electric grid and everything. It's just that no one lives here." She grins.

"Not like we don't have an infinite source of power with the wind and solar farms outside the fence and all. They power the old parts too even though no one lives there either."

"Why not?"

"Because those structures are a hundred years old at least. Electricity down there is spotty at best and the place isn't exactly staying together very well. According to the Dauntless records, the oldest still standing structure down there is from the second century and it's _barely_ standing. All the original stuff collapsed with age or just, like, was destroyed when they were building some of the newer stuff, or otherwise sealed off. Supposedly, the place connects to the Erudite Catacombs, not that anyone knows if that's actually true or not. I've only been down there once and it's a mess, I'm pretty sure they just let the ventilation fall into disrepair because it's _musty_ down there."

The Erudite Catacombs are an urban legend; _supposedly_, the faction's founder constructed an underground library where all the city's knowledge was stored. It's vast, and beautiful, oh and Glynda Seibold was so proud of it that she was buried there. Even if such a place ever did exist, which there's absolutely no proof of, there's no telling what state it's in - if it's even standing anymore. The bombs from the pre-faction war were what opened up the massive holes in the city, Dauntless is built underground because those gaping pits all over the city were really convenient real estate I guess. However, that also means that every couple of decades or so - never in my lifetime - some hundred year old structure will collapse and open up a gaping hole in the street above it. If there's nothing left of the original Dauntless headquarters, then surely there's nothing of the Erudite Catacombs.

We stroll around the empty compound for a while, keeping time by Amelie's phone.

"Why don't they use this space for, like, storage or something?" I ask. "Seems pretty convenient to me."

She shrugs. "You're asking the wrong person. I only know about this place because of my mentor, who was alive when it was being built. Apparently they were actually going to put in a real performing arts center, like the one they have in City Center but underground and exclusive to Dauntless, bit I don't think that ever got funded." She shrugs. "Pity. I would have actually moved over here if that had been the case."

"What happened to all the people who were planning to live here?" I ask.

"They moved back as soon as they realized how inconvenient it was to walk _all_ the way to the Pit and the dining hall. It was mostly just the initiates that came the year it was completed so, not a lot of people to begin with."

She leads me down another series of hallways up to an above ground building. We take the stairs up to a floor with a large terrace just beyond a pair of glass doors. Amelie pushes them both open and we walk out. I breathe in the fresh air and shiver in the cold, but smile. It's been so long since I've been outside and even longer since I was actually happy about it and not sore, exhausted, or crying. I grab the freezing railing with both hands and lean over it, looking out at the streets stretching below me. Then a gleam of silver catches my eye.

Just below us, sparking in the sun, is a silver - so silver it's almost reflective - car. I furrow my brow and lean as far as I dare over the railing to get a closer look. I swear I recognize that car.

"You're late," faintly, a familiar voice snaps. "My employer is not a patient person, and frankly neither am I."

"Yes," drawls another voice I know. "Believe me, I'm well aware."

I see Max's broad figure walk out from under the terrace's shade and the car door opens. Oliver-Bree Sullivan, another member of Erudite's Support Crew and my father's assistant, steps out at rests their arms on the roof. That shock of purple in their short black hair is unmistakable even from all the way up here. I can't see their face, but I'd imagine that they're glaring at him.

"You don't have to come all the way out here you know," Max says, a deep exasperation in his voice. "You can tell your employer that a phone call is really just fine."

They close the car door, the gesture dramatic and exaggerated as everything they do, and then they walk around the car to stand toe to toe with Max, one hand on their hip.

They say something I don't quite catch, but it makes Max's stance become just a little more defensive as he says, "How dare you."

"Am I wrong?" They shrug with the hand not on their hip. "Your people have been driving mine up the damn wall since we started this little venture and my employer isn't about to stake everything on _your_ faith in yours."

"Are you suggesting that the Dauntless aren't capable of taking care of your precious equipment?" What equipment? What is he talking about?

Oliver-Bree outright laughs at him. "I'm not suggesting anything, I'm _telling_ you that neither my employer, nor any of my colleagues with even a shred of common sense, nor I trust your people care of our equipment, which has had years of research and millions poured into its creation."

Max steps toward them and they step back, that's the first time I see their face. They've got a smug smile, the same one that they wear every time I see them. Some people find it annoying, I think Max is one of those people.

"Careful," they drawl, their voice high and light. They chuckle. "You and I have quite the partnership ahead of us."

"Is that so?" Max says flatly.

"Well, it's me or it's Caspian. And I think you remember what Caspian makes of Dauntless."

"What happened to the others?" he grumbles. "They take a long walk off a short cliff?"

"Initiation happened to Cecelia, and frankly Ryan and Alexi have neither the time nor the patience to deal with you and the rest of yours."

He sighs, sounding very tired once again. "Mis…ter Sullivan-"

"Miss Sullivan," Bree cuts them off.

"_Miss_ Sullivan," he amends, "I think it would be in both of our best interests to make this process as painless as possible. How about I take you on a tour of the compound; show you that we're getting on just fine without Erudite's supervision?"

"Ha! Not likely. Do I look like the sort of person who has that kind of time to waste? No, my employer is waiting; get in the car."

I can only imagine Max's grimace at their attitude. People tend to have that reaction; Bree's nearly constant smile only makes it all the more surprising and all the more unpleasant. Max heaves another sigh and then gets in the back. Bree walks back around to the driver's side and gets in, slamming the door and speeding off.

"Holy shit," Amelie says, enunciating each syllable.

I don't bother to tell Amelie that I know her - knew her. I'm too busy wondering what they were talking about. The employer she was referring to is probably referring to my father or Jeanine, probably Jeanine because my father tends to be far more forgiving of tardiness than she is. And Support Crew as a whole does belong to Jeanine alone, no matter who they technically work with or work under. Cecelia is a department head, but only really has a job to do September through December; Bree and Caspian _technically_ work for my father and Jason Reynolds - Erudite's other council liaison and also Eliza's father - but because they have less to do than Alexi and Ryan, they often wind up at my mother's and Jeanine's - but mostly Jeanine's - disposal.

So the only question left is what's going on? I'm sure it's none of my business, but I'm also pretty sure that it has to do with the last conversation I eavesdropped on; the one between Eric and Jeanine. She did mention that she would send someone along, though Bree seems none too pleased about being that someone.

"We should go," Amelie says apprehensively. "You, um, you should be getting back to your friends."

I nod, following her back the way we came to the part of the compound I actually recognize. It's almost lunchtime so we walk together to the dining hall. Before we part ways to go to our own table she grabs my arm to stop me.

"Hey," she says, "good luck on you test. I'll be rooting for you."

I throw my arms around her. "Thank you, Amelie. That means the world to me."

I stroll to my table after getting my food and Christina shoots up to meet me, putting her arm around my shoulders. Tris is missing (surprise, surprise), so it's just us and the three Dauntless-born.

"Where did you go?" she asks. "You just vanished after breakfast."

"Oh, my aunt needed to talk to me and then I kinda lost track of you guys so I went and hung out with Amelie." I leave out all the parts about the other half of the compound we've never seen before, Max and Bree's conversation, everything about the Morgans.

"Your what and also who?" Will asks.

And it's in that moment that I realize exactly how much I've neglected to tell them. Hesitantly I stat, "Well….my mother has an..._estranged_ sister who lives here and my sister-in-law's good friend, Amelie Lacamoire, is pretty good to me too. I actually have been hanging out with her a lot."

"So that's where you disappear off to in the evenings," Christina says and I nod.

"So where's Tris?" I change the subject.

"She decided to eat back in the dorms," Will says. "I don't know why."

"Hm. Do you think everything's alright. She's been kind of…"

"Weird?" Christina suggests.

"Strange," Will throws out.

"_Different_," is the word I decide on. "Since, um, you know...Al. I figured you guys would know what's up with her."

"No," Christina says. "It's like she's a different person."

"Maybe it's just test anxiety," Will says. "I can definitely relate. I could definitely stand to be a little faster."

"I mean," Lynn says, her mouth full of food. She pauses to swallow. "This should be a lot easier because we know it's just a sim, right?"

"Just because you know something's not real doesn't mean it's not pants-shitting terrifying." Will gestures with his fork. "Ever had a lucid nightmare? You know those aren't real, but it doesn't mean you don't wake up in a cold sweat. Your brain interprets scary things in the same way whether you know they pose a real threat or not. Irrational fears work the same way and people have written theses upon theses on the concept but it doesn't make the human brain any less weird."

Lynn gives him a blank look and Marlene starts cracking up after a few seconds of silence. Slowly she speaks, "You….fucking nerd." She laughs. "Holy shit. You can take the boy out of Erudite, but you can't take the Erudite out of the boy apparently."

Will's ears turn bright red as he murmurs, "My mother's a neuroscientist and my father's a psychologist. Give me a fucking break."

"Oh, didn't your sister do something with the fear sims too?" I say.

"Wrote her doctoral thesis on it. See guys, Mimi understands me." He sticks his tongue out in the others, whose laughter grows all the louder.

"That's because Mimi's almost a bigger nerd than you are," Christina says through her laughter. "_Almost_."

I chuckle, raising my eyebrow at her. "Thanks? I think?"

"Oh don't even," Will groans. "You know fucking everything about every sim ever thanks your fuckin'...what is she, your godmother?"

"Oh, I have no idea. She's just a really, really close friend."

"Okay, but he's right," Christina interjects. "Do you not remember you two totally nerd-ing out over the mechanics of the fear sim the first day." She turns to the others. "I swear, it's not a day with these two if they don't start at least one incomprehensible conversation circle jerk." They laugh, Will and I share an exasperated look that turns very fond when we look at Christina.

"You love it," Will says, kissing her on the cheek. Giggling, I kiss her on her other cheek.

She rolls her eyes, but smiles still and pulls Will in for a kiss first.

"Bleck," Lynn interrupts, pulling a face. "Get a room."

Will and Christina ignore her and my laughing. Her hand finds mine under the table and she gives it a light squeeze, I squeeze back and with my free hand take another bite.

She squeezes my hand again a minute later and pulls me in, but I pull her back before her lips can find mine.

"Maybe since you're so tired of our 'incomprehensible conversation circle jerk', Will and I should just silence each other."

Before she gets a chance to respond beyond a look of surprise, Will's chair scrapes as it moves back and he's behind me in a moment. I twist back and wrap my arm around his waist, pulling him close. He puts his hand on the back of my neck and pulls me up as he bends down. We meet in the middle.

Off to the side I hear Christina scoff. "Rude, you two."

He and I have to pull apart because we can't keep ourselves from giggling.

"You three are so cute," Marlene says.

"Aw thanks," Will says. "We think so too."

I laugh at that and then kiss him again, my hand still holding Christina's.

When I finally right myself in my chair and Will sits down, Christina in between us looks thoroughly - though obviously jokingly - annoyed.

"I swear the only downside to this is waiting," she says just loud enough for Will and I to hear. I don't have a clever response for that, mostly because she kisses me before I can react at all.

"So what do you think you'll do after initiation?" Will asks the others while Christina and I are still preoccupied with each other.

"No clue," Uriah says. "I think I'll just...go wherever the wind takes me, y'know?"

"I think I'd like to try art," Marlene says. "Like, art school and everything, full professional. Though, Wendy offered me a job in the library and that might be a nice way to make money while I'm trying to get established"

"Hey, then we'll be working together," Will says.

Lynn takes some time to think about and Christina and I let go of each other around the time that she says, "City patrol, I guess. I'm a thrill seeker, but I don't wanna do competitive sports I don't think. I'd rather have something that I can, like, do for the rest of my life."

"How sensible," I say.

"Aaaand, you've made it lame now." She laughs and so do the rest of us. I don't think I'll ever understand Dauntless' aversion to forethought and sense, but I think it's long since stopped bothering me.

"What about you guys?" Marlene says.

"Initiation instructor," says Christina. "I figure that Four could probably use some extra help, or just someone to hold him back when he wants to physically threaten initiates." She laughs but I can tell just by the look on her face that she isn't joking. Most of what she went through is Eric's fault, but Four liked to pick on people and that certainly didn't help things.

"I'd like to go into leadership," I say. "I want to climb the ladder while I'm still young, that way by the time I'm in my forties I have a decent shot at being faction leader."

"I heard Peter's gunning for leadership too," Uriah says.

"Yeah, well we'll just have to see if he can even make the rank required for leadership," Lynn replies.

I haven't forgotten about our plans to push Peter out of the top rankings. It would have been easier in stage one, that's somewhere that it's easier to climb. But with stage two it feels a lot like you're either good at it or not and it's pretty much impossible to improve. I got lucky, I have an advantage to begin with. But it's still not enough to beat Tris.

So how does _she_ do it so well?

"Well," Uriah's voice breaks my train of thought. As he speaks, he lifts his glass, "here's to our dreams coming true."

"Our dreams!" The rest of us repeat, clinking our glasses together and laughing when Marlene's soda splashes back on her.

The conversation continues, turning more casual and everyone avoiding talking about what's to come.

Maybe I still don't understand just what this all means. Maybe I still don't know what it is to be truly Dauntless. But maybe that doesn't matter; I should just play it by ear and I'll probably figure it out eventually. I don't have to understand everything and I'm not going to. I just have to keep moving forward, focus on my life and my future.

And I hope that the rest of my life is like this.


	38. Chapter 38: Are You Ready?

Christina splits off from the group to go look for Tris, the Dauntless-born rush on ahead, Will and I walk slowly together holding hands. Older Dauntless are also going in the same direction as us, most of them talking loudly in their own groups and many placing bets on which initiate will have the best time, which one will piss themselves from fear, etc.

Before we start up the stairs that make us both nervous, we step to the side and share a long kiss.

"We can do this," I say when we pull apart.

"Oh, I know." He gives me a confident smirk. "But a kiss for good luck never hurt anything."

"How about we make it two, double the luck."

"Can't say no to that." We kiss again and I wrap my arms around his neck.

I'm not sure how long we stay there, but when Christina walks to us she laughs and quips about us starting without her.

Will apologizes in the most sarcastic tone possible and Christina pulls him out of my arms toward her. When the two of them part she immediately turns to me and I wrap my arms around her waist, leaning down to close the gap between us.

After a little while, Tris clears her throat and says, "Can we get going so we're not late already?"

Christina giggles. "You're welcome to get in on this if you'd like. There's plenty of me to go around."

She laughs and rolls her eyes. "Not likely, Chris."

"Well," Will says with a chuckle, "if you ever get tired of fourth wheeling, you know where to find us." He gives her a playful wink.

She pulls a face and starts up the stairs without us. We follow after her, the stairs narrow enough that we have to walk in pairs and people pressing in from all sides.

"Initiation must just be the event of the year," Christina mutters to me and I nod.

It was a big deal in Erudite – big enough to warrant an entire department devoted to it – but no one ever actually watched the initiates go through training. Probably because the final test was literally a test, a big culmination of everything that you've learned. The real event was the gala at the end where a solid chunk of the faction attended to see who made it and in what order. Of course, the real excitement was always seeing which of the top ranking initiates would be the two that went to work for Jeanine in a permanent, paid position. Those positions were how people worked their way up, you got to go _everywhere_ and meet everyone who was anyone.

I wonder if I could have made it, if I stayed. Obviously it doesn't matter. No skills I could have ever acquired there would be anything like what I've learned here. But I can't help it, I think I'll always wonder what my life would have been like if I'd stayed.

Up the stairs it finally becomes clear what this room is used for. People are everywhere; gathered around the plate glass windows, gathered around screens, all of them watching as Marlene goes through her test. We still can't see what she sees, only how she reacts. But that seems to me fascinating to the Dauntless nonetheless. In the bottom corner of the scree is her heartrate, it picks up for a second and then decreases again, then the border flashes green and I guess she moves onto the next thing. The Dauntless members cheer. In the other bottom corner is her time, she's been going for nearly eight minutes.

We don't stop for long. If the tests have already started that means that we're already late. We push through the crowd to the double doors at the far end. When we push into the hallway beyond them, it's blissfully empty. I can hear the quiet chatter of the initiates still waiting downstairs. When we get down there, some of them are watching Marlene through the window, but most of them are just sitting around talking about literally anything that isn't the test. I glance through the window adjacent to us, this time all five of the Dauntless leaders are sitting there; but I only recognize Max and Eric. Lauren and Four are also there. Every time Marlene does something they make a little mark on a paper I can't see.

Everyone else is already seated but there are two chairs left on the very end. Christina, Will and I share them with some difficulty. I wind up in the middle of the two of them, the split right underneath me.

I'm reminded of after Tris' fight with Peter when Will, Christina, Al, and I managed to share the two chairs at Tris' bedside between the four of us. I don't want to think of stage one as 'better times' I think things really have changed for the better since then. But it was definitely simpler; back when we are all alive and kind of scared but more optimistic than anything else, before the nightmares, and the tension, and the drama. It's been resolved some, but I still can't help but feel like something's missing from our group and I know exactly what that is. But he's gone, there's no bringing him back no matter how shitty we all feel and dwelling on it, well it just feels worse. I'm sure that there are way that we could have all been better friends to Al, even if there is nothing that we can do about it now.

The next time I pay attention to the room on the other side of the window, Marlene is curled up in a ball with tear tracks running down her cheeks. Lynn and Uriah both press their hands against the window, their worried expressions nearly identical.

The leaders and instructors all come out of the other room and congratulate her for finishing. Lauren helps her to her feet and Marlene mutters something as she wipes her tears from her face. I half expect Eric to make some shitty joke about her crying, but Max must have told him to be on his best behavior because he doesn't.

They finish up with the Dauntless-born, which I half pay attention to because some of them are my friends, but the simulations just aren't that interesting from the outside looking in. The more people leave, the more the conversation dries up and by the time Uriah – the last Dauntless-born to go – is done, a thick blanket of tension has settled over us. It doesn't help that the only transfers left are sworn enemies or something. Peter revolts me, I just don't care about the others.

It's times like this when I miss Myra and Edward, I always miss them but especially since the dorm room has been whittled down to two friend groups who hate each other. They were my friends, but through they hung out occasionally it was pretty clear that they preferred to keep to themselves.

"Okay." Four comes out into the waiting room. "Because there's so few of you, you're going to go in the reverse order of your rankings; so Drew will go first and Tris will go last."

Drew follows Four through the door to begin his test. My friends and I try to keep up a conversation but inevitably we wind up trailing off into silence eventually. I watch Drew's clock count up, and up, and up. It's boring to watch and I have nothing better to do.

Molly goes next and she takes about half as long as Drew but I see her struggle with it. She screams once and I almost feel bad.

Almost.

When it's Christina's turn, Will and I both wish her luck and give her a kiss. Four makes an impatient sound from the doorway and I'm tempted to hold her to me just to annoy him.

Twelve minutes.

Will lingers on me before he goes back, his trembling hands cupping my cheeks.

"You're gonna do fine," I say and then give him a gentle nudge toward the door. He gives me a nervous smile as he disappears. Tris takes the spot he used to occupy but we don't talk, we keep our eyes glued to the screen watching the minutes count up. I notice that every so often his mouth will move, talking in the midst of the simulation. Lauren seems to find whatever he's saying amusing and at one point she laughs out loud.

Ten minutes.

Then Peter. I have no sarcastic comments for him and he has no cocky last words for us. Now isn't really the time for jokes.

Fifteen minutes. And I let a sharp little smirk tug at my lips. He doesn't have the worst time – that dubious honor belongs to Drew – but he's in the bottom three and that's where he'll stay because Tris and I are the only ones left and, despite her incident her first time through Lauren's fear, we're the best here.

"Mimi." Four waves me back.

"I knew you knew my name," I mutter as I pass him.

He rolls his eyes at me. Eric is the one waiting to inject me. I sit down in the chair and stare blankly ahead of me. I don't know how many fears I'll truly have to face, nor do I know the time I have to beat – because obviously it's going to be Tris' time. But I know it's got to be a single digit, which means I have to do as well as I've always done and better. I won't be the bridesmaid this time.

"Ready?" Eric says, the needle poised against my neck, the spot has grown tender from the repeated injections.

I take a breath, pushing away all the thoughts of the things I could have done to be more prepared and I say, "Yes."

He sticks the needle in my neck and presses the plunger down. My world goes dark.


	39. Chapter 39: Famous Last Words

When I open my eyes again I'm standing in a blank gray room, the corners of which are hidden in the shadows. I hear breathing behind me and think, '_Oh fuck_.' I would have been better off with literally any other fear as my first one. I turn, expecting to find a family member or a friend. I have seen every member of my immediate family, all of my friends, at least two cousins. It fazes me every time.

That's why I'm surprised when I turn and find Peter. He's wheezing, on the ground supported only by his arms and bleeding. When I step toward him, he flinches and I see tears shine in his eyes.

That's when I realize that I'm not in the fear I thought I was.

"Please don't hurt me anymore," he mutters, putting his hands up to protect his face.

I feel a sharp stinging in my hands and look down to find my knuckles split and bloody.

I have never won a fight against Peter, I have been the one in the position he is now too often. But this doesn't feel good, this doesn't feel right. I've never liked hurting people and he is no exception. He looks up at me with helpless, pleading eyes but when I extend my hand to him he flinches away.

Vaguely, I'm aware of the seconds counting up, of my single digit time requirement. But I also have the overwhelming urge to make this right. I didn't do this. This isn't real.

"Don't be afraid," I say, softly. "I'm not going to hurt you."

He seems to doubt me, his eyes narrow in suspicion and he shifts away from me. He lets out a soft, bitter laugh and with his broken voice says, "Yeah right, you're a fuckin' menace and you know it. You've been waiting to land a hit on me since the start of initiation."

"No," I keep my voice soft. "You're wrong." I swallow hard, mentally preparing for what I'm going to say next. "I've never won a fight against you. This is…not how this usually goes."

I blink and suddenly our positions are reversed. He's the one standing over me with a devilish smirk.

He looks down at me, no mercy in his eyes and says, "I guess you're right."

His fist comes at me and I close my eyes, I never feel it connect.

When I open them again, I'm no longer in that room. I'm encased in glass that resembles a birdcage in shape. The bright sun beats down on me. I know from experience that I will suffocate if I linger too long. It's too hot and too bright, and I can't focus. It's like I'm floating in mid-air, the bright blue sky all around me and an endless expanse of shadow far below me. I try and take deep breaths, calm myself down, I expect the simulation to advance eventually. But it never does, and the longer I stay here the more desperate I become. I slam my first hard against the glass and it hurts like hell but a web of cracks spread across the pane. I beat my fists against the glass more and the cracks spread by degrees but still the glass remains. The fact that I know I'm being timed does nothing to help me calm down. If anything, it makes me more panicked.

Desperate, I lean back and slam my shoulder into the class. The glass makes an awful crunching sound and then shatters completely. Unfortunately, the momentum carries me straight over the edge and I fall with the glass. There are pieces stuck in my jacket and my fists are bloody. The wind whips around me and that's all I can feel, and all I can see is the bright sky. I don't have enough air in my lungs to scream and finally I just let my eyes slip closed.

Then I hit something hard enough to knock the wind out of me and my eyes shoot open again. I can breathe.

It's a net. I landed in a net.

I scrape my hand through my hair, breathing heavily. Then everything darkens around me. I'm standing again in a cold, gray room. My heartbeat is too loud, too hard in my chest. I feel a searing pain and my heartbeat becomes louder. Suddenly I'm soaked to the bone and when I look down at my hands they're covered in blood, dripping all over the floor. It drips from the ceiling like water; onto the floor, onto my face. It's still warm, horribly warm as it runs down my face and off my jaw. Beneath me, it grows into small puddles on the floor. I look around for an escape, for a way to stop the drip because there should always be a way. That was the whole purpose of these sims, right? Because we're supposed to know how to solve problems under fear and pressure.

But there's nothing; there's no way out. It's just four solid gray walls and a growing amount of blood on the floor. These are not walls that I can punch through, there is no vent to climb out of. I have to either force my heart to slow down or find a way to face my fear head on.

One deep breath in and the scent of iron assaults my nose. I gag and try to keep breathing, telling myself that it isn't real. But the _drip, drip, drip_ of the blood keeps me in the moment, unable to escape the warm liquid falling onto my face. I want to vomit, I'm not even sure if I could do that in the simulation or if I'd just risk choking to death in real life.

I dig my nails into the palms of my hands as hard as I can, trying to focus on any other sensation than the _drip, drip, drip_. I cannot tell how long I've been like this, it feels like hours. I wonder when it will count as enough, when I will have suffered enough for them to let me move on to the next nightmare. All of that anger about the fact that Dauntless makes us suffer for the sake of it comes back to me, that angry grief I held in the aftermath of losing Al. Wet liquid slides down my cheek, the feeling distinctly different than the blood, less viscous. I realize that I'm crying. But for the first time I can't feel the drops of blood landing on me. This isn't quite calm, but leaning into the anger of my situation makes the scene flicker when I open my eyes. Through my vision blurred by tears I see it glitch, jerking in and out of existence. I look around, sneering at my surroundings and let out a half sob half snarl. Rage and grief bubbling up and out through my mouth. I screw my eyes shut tight and leave the room of blood behind.

I am sitting now, in a small studio apartment that I recognize innately as my own. I am skimming over a newspaper only to be met with a picture of a smiling Eliza, radiant in her professional Erudite blue. Some award she's getting. Christina, Tris, and Will all went off on some adventure yesterday and will be gone the whole weekend. All of this knowledge is just implanted in my mind and instantly I know which scene I am in. A heavy weight settles over me and I just feel like lying down, tired of this - of not being able to be the person that I want to be. I groan and run my fingers through my long loose hair. Outside I see the sun begin to move at impossible speed, days whirling past me. Papers pile up on the table and I am just paralyzed, unable to do anything about my own misery.

What am I doing? I'll never make it in Dauntless sitting around like this. I've got to take action. I am in charge of my own fate, and I decided when I came here that I wanted a life of adventure. I will not waste away in an apartment all day watching the sun and bearing witness to the accomplishments of my friends. I have my own dreams to live.

With great effort I force myself to rise from the table as the wind picks up, scattering papers everywhere. It's like the scene is trying to trap me in that chair, in my own misery. But I refuse to give in. Step by forced step I make my way toward the door to freedom, to adventure, to living. After what feels like an eternity and all the effort I can muster, I reach the doorhandle and throw it open. Then I am blinded by light.

Then it's over. My eyes flash open and I am reclined in the chair staring up at the ceiling. A shudder passes over me and I scrub my hands over my face. The Dauntless leaders and instructors come out of their room, stone-faced. I look to any of them for a glimmer that I might have done well but find none.

"Mimi," Max says, his hands clasped behind his back. "Your time was an hour and seventeen minutes."

Eric snickers. "Holding the dubious honor of our longest time to date. I don't even think it really needs saying but you will not be joining Dauntless."

In that instant it feels like my world cracks. All of my breath leaves me at once and I lean back in my chair, feeling like I'm going to be sick. All my hard work was for nothing. Tears stream openly down my face and I hear laughter from all around me along with whispers of _failure, failure, failure_.

Somewhere in the back of my mind the knowledge that this isn't real rings, but not loud enough. Even just being confronted with the possibility of my own failure is too much. I begin to panic about how long I've been under. Am I taking too long? It felt like I was in the blood room for hours. The feeling that coming to Dauntless was a mistake, something I haven't felt in weeks, starts to constrict me again. I literally picked the place where I had the biggest chance of failing and the complete lack of a safety net. Not only have I disappointed my family profoundly, I've set myself up for factionlessness at the slightest slip up. I saw what happened to Edward and Myra; it's not really about how brave you are, or how hard you try, or how much you want it. To be Dauntless is to be ruthless.

I guess in that way it reminds me of Erudite.

Okay, okay, okay. Gotta calm down. Have to pass this sim. I shouldn't have very many left after this. I cover my ears to drown out the endless heckling and try to stop crying. I haven't failed yet, that's what Maria said to me, and if I just keep my head down I won't fail now or ever.

I have a future ahead of me, I'm determined to make it so. I have come too far and endured too much to fall short now.

The scene around me blurs, showing me the factionless projects, me carving out a home ther. So I shut my eyes. None of this is real and none of it ever will be if I can just get past this moment.

The sound fades and I gather up enough courage to open my eyes I am sitting in a warm, familiar room on the piano bench as the sun streams golden through the windows. My feet don't touch the ground beneath me and my hair doesn't touch my shoulders. There is laughter around me and a gentle finger wipes the tear from my cheek.

"Something wrong, Little Love?"

I gasp, my voice still thick with grief as I look up to see the gentle eyes of Jeanine looking down at me with mild concern. I had been leaning against her side, her arm over me and her fingers poised on the white keys of the piano. I whip my head over my shoulder to see something I have not seen in years; my family - all of them - lounging in the living room laughing and enjoying one another's company. But as I'm taking all of that in; the smiles on their faces, the strangely blurry features of Damascus, the gentle sound of Jeanine going back to playing out a melody I know so well, everything starts to change around me. Abruptly, Damascus' blurry form gets up and leaves. Instinctual objection wells in my throat, I jump from the bench and reach out for his dark hand but he slips through my fingers like mist and is gone. As I turn back I am taller, the room is different, and Mark and Pandora are dressing in yellow and red, and black respectively.

"No!" I cry out, my voice high and childlike. But as I reach for them they too disappear like smoke, they barely even look at me.

"This is the way it has to be, Mimette." Minerva shrugs on a white jacket over her black button up.

"No, stop!" I throw myself at my sister's middle and pass through her, stumbling to my knees.

"Mimette…" The twins say in almost identical voices, standing over me with looks of pity. They're holding onto each other, and then they are gone.

There's no music any more. My remaining parents talk in whispers to one another paying me no mind. Binders, papers, and computers appear around them. They have too much work to do to deal with me and my childish distress.

It doesn't stop me from trying to get to them anyways, but too late as they too flicker, fade, and dissolve into nothing.

Irrational stress pulls at the edges of my mind. Tears start to fall from my eyes. I let out a scream of pure, unadulterated grief. I shiver, pulling my arms around myself. The whole house dissolves into fog and I am alone. Just alone. Always alone in the end. Who have I ever been without my family, without other people to define myself by?

It's so cold that I can see my breath. but that's all I can see. The fog is so heavy it's almost a physical weight dragging me to the ground, begging me to lie down and never get up again. I want to, I really do. It would be so much easier than continuing to stand alone, all alone.

A violent shiver runs through my body, all of the warmth leached from it. There are words on my lips, but my teeth are chattering too hard to get them out. Even if I were able, who would there be to hear me? I could wander this cold, desolate place for years and never see another soul.

I drop to my knees, unable to rise again. Softly, I whisper despite knowing that no one is there to listen. "Help me."

Distantly, I hear something. I strain to listen but the sound is so far off. I call again, my voice so soft and so weak, "Help me."

Distantly I hear a shout, one that sounds familiar and stirs some warmth within me.

"Help me! Help!"

In the distance there is a light in the fog, warm and safe. I somehow manage to push myself to my feet and stumble toward it, intermittently calling out to the person in the distance. It doesn't matter who it is. All that matters is that it is _someone_ someone warm and real who will not disappear to fog underneath my fingers.

"Hello!" a warm, familiar voice breaks through the silence. Christina.

"Yes! Hello!" I call back. I stumble toward the light and there she is, there are all my friends calling out to me and coming in to hug me as I collapse in my girlfriend's arms. I am safe, I am loved.

I am not alone.


	40. Chapter 40: Free At Last

I open my eyes again and wipe my cheeks even though they're dry. I let out a shaky breath sit up, telling myself that everything is fine. But it's not fine, I feel like I'm going to be sick and my heart still pounds.

The Dauntless leaders and instructors come out of the other room, they stand in a small crowd in front of me and Lauren helps me to my feet.

"Congratulations, Mimi," Eric says. "You've successfully completed your final evaluation."

"Thanks." My tone is flat, bordering on sarcastic.

"Head on back to the dorms. The banquet doesn't start until dinner."

I nod walking out through the door on the other side of the room. I drag my feet on the way back to the dorm, glad to be done but not in the mood to stick around and see how Tris performs. If anything, that would just make things worse. I had to have done better than her. I have to.

A pair of arms wrap around my shoulders and I start, struggling for a second before I realize that it's Pandora.

"Don't do that," I hiss.

She chuckles. "Calm down. It's over now, you did great."

"If you say so." My tone is still very, very flat.

She gives me a gentle smile. "Look, tomorrow you and I will go out and have a little post-initiation unwind. Whatever you want to do; I'll cover it."

"You don't have to-"

"I want to," she interrupts me. "Bring your friends if you want, anything for my favorite little sister." She hugs me.

I let out a half-hearted laugh. "That's unfortunate for Minerva and Melanie."

She leans back, still smiling. "Well, they aren't here right now, are they?"

I smile despite how much I miss them. "I guess not."

We part ways and I continue walking back to the dorm. I think about Eliza and Kira as I walk. They'll be ending their initiation today too, they're probably still taking their final. The twins told me a while back that it was a hundred page cumulative exam that took all day to complete. I wish that I could talk to them, congratulate them on their last day and just hear their voices again.

Casey finished her initiation a while back, she's a member already. Amity initiation only lasts thirty days. I wonder how she's doing, if she's happy? Well, I'm sure she's happy; everyone's happy in Amity.

I hope that I'm happy in Dauntless.

People are packing when I get back to the dorm, all except for Molly who's taking a nap. An empty black duffel bag sits on my bed that I begin to put everything that I'd previously stored in the basket under my bed into.

"Hey, Mimi," Will and Christina greet me in near unison without looking up.

"Hey, guys," I say very sweetly.

Christina stands when she's done packing and flops backwards onto her bed. "I can't believe this nightmare is finally over." She raises her fists in the air.

Will and I both smile at her and then each other.

"I got you something," he says. "A little end of initiation present."

"Oh, Will, you shouldn't have."

His smile widens. "But I did." He reaches under his pillow and pulls out a little black leatherbound book. "I know it's not exactly the same, but-" He's interrupted when I pull him toward me.

"Oh, it's perfect." I kiss him.

"Glad you like it" he says when we part. "I got Chris a makeup kit so she can practice."

Christina holds up a small black case, smiling. "Isn't he the sweetest?"

"He is," I agree.

He blushes. "It was nothing. I just...wanted to do something nice for you two."

"Aww." Christina coos, then crosses the room to kiss him. Then she looks up at me. "I didn't buy you anything, but I do have a kiss for you."

I giggle. "And I have one for you as well. Shall we exchange?"

She giggles too. "Yes, lets."

She puts her hand on the back of my neck, I put my hands on her shoulders, and we pull each other as close as we can. I turn my head and lock our lips together, making her hand tighten on my neck. Her tongue brushes my lips and I part them, cautiously returning the gesture. We have to part at some point, though reluctantly. I rest my forehead against hers, smiling, and we share a breath. She gives me another kiss, this one quicker.

The sound of a bag zipping draws our attention back to Will. He's finished packing and is now sitting up on his bed with a book. He notices us staring out of the corner of his eye and seems to grow a little flustered. "I…I still don't know what to do when you two are…Like, I don't want to interrupt, and it feels rude to stare, and…" He trails off, looking askance.

Christina and I share a laugh, Christina's much louder than mine and that only makes his blush brighter. This is so new to all of us still, it's only been a couple of weeks even if it doesn't feel like it.

"You are too cute," Christina says, still giggling.

"Oh, like you know what you're doing any more than I do," he scoffs, flapping his hand at her.

"Well that's half the fun," I say, "figuring it out together."

He twists his hands together, his real nerves starting to come to the surface. "I just…really don't want to mess this up."

"Will," Christina says, "I don't think anything could mess this up for us. I mean, after everything that's happened, I think it'll take a little more than cliché as fuck teenage drama to pull us apart. And we're best friends, so even if we don't know what we're doing we know each other." She reaches up and in a very tender gesture runs the back of her hand down his cheek.

He doesn't respond, he takes her hand in his and pulls her up for a kiss. It's long and heavy, very much like the one that she and I shared.

It's strange from the outside looking in, it's even stranger watching them and knowing that I am also a part of them; that I am theirs and they are mine.

Will, without opening his eyes, begins to feel around for something; he pats on the bed around him but also swats at the open air, missing me by centimeters. Guessing – and hoping I'm not wrong in my assumption of what he was looking for – I put my hand in his.

"Looking for something?" I ask.

He hums against Christina's lips in approval, squeezing my hand and ever so gently tugging me closer to the two of them. I oblige, sitting down next to him on the bunk. He lets go of my hand and runs his up my arm, over my shoulder, and then gently caresses my face. I lean into his touch and very slowly come closer, unsure of what I'm about to do. I press a fleeting kiss to his cheek and there's barely a moment that passes before he pops away from Christina and turns to me. His other hand comes to my face as well and he presses his lips to mine again.

"Well alright-y then," Christina says, pretending to be annoyed.

She takes my hand and one of Will's slips from my face, finding us and we clasp Christina's hand between the two ours. We fumble blindly and try to figure out how to lace our fingers together, Will and I while hardly breaking contact, until it becomes hilariously obvious that the action is neither easy nor comfortable. I have to pull away from him completely because I can't stop giggling.

Christina rests her head on one of my shoulders and Will on the other.

"So it's over," Will says. "Are you guys ready?"

"Are you kidding?" Christina looks at him. "I've been ready to be done with this since day two."

"Fair, fair," he replies. "But still, having to be a real adult, not sure how I feel about that."

These past weeks we've been in limbo, still unsure of our place in the world. In just a few hours we would be real Dauntless, truly separated from our faction and our place in the world definite.

But what have I learned? What is my place? Who is this person that I believed in so much I left my whole life behind me?

Well, if I'm to trust Amelie - and I do trust her - then it doesn't matter. I just am, no need to put words to it.

After a life of putting words to everything, that sounds nice.

Several hours later, we walk to the dining hall together, our hands clasped together, all of us dressed up for what apparently is the event of the year. The closer we get, the denser the crowd becomes. People swarm the pit and the hallways, clad in over the top outfits that show off any tattoos they may have. Streamers have been taped up all over the Pit and wrapped around the railings. A cluster of children run past us, trailing more streamers behind them.

"Hey, Mimi." Amelie catches up to us, a camera slung around her neck and her tulle skirt fluttering around her as she walks. "Can I get a picture of you guys. I think it'll go great with my portraiture stuff."

I look at the other two and they shrug so I nod. We wrap our arms around each other and Amelie takes a step back, holding the camera up to her face. Will rests his head on my shoulder and I can feel his and Christina's intertwined hands resting on my back. The shutter snaps and Amelie looks down at the photo, smiling.

"I like this one," she says then starts walking away. She calls back, "I'll show you the print when I get it."

We keep walking and when we eventually reach the dining hall it's total chaos, such is everything in Dauntless. We get our food and then go to the table, where we're alone for a little while.

"Where do you think everyone is?" Christina says.

Will shrugs. "I'm sure they'll show up. I mean, it's the last day of initiation they're not going to just skip it."

Almost as soon as he says that, Tris joins us.

"Hey," Christina says, "where did you go? Everyone else went back to the dormitory."

She shrugs. "I just wandered around. I was too nervous to just sit around and talk about the test."

"You of all people have no reason to be nervous," I say like I'm not anticipating the moment the scores are revealed and I'm above her. "You're the one who's the best out of us."

She looks away, bashful. "So...what jobs are you guys looking into?"

"Leadership," I say without hesitation and Tris pulls a face for a fraction of a second, but it's gone before I can interpret it.

"Instructor," Christina says with a chuckle. "I think it looks like fun."

Tris chuckles too. "I'm sure Four will be just thrilled about that."

She laughs. "I'll train with Lauren if I can help it. What about you?"

"I guess...faction ambassador sounds nice. Being a transfer would probably give me an edge."

"Well then we just might work together," I say.

"Like mother like daughter," Will quips and Tris' expression flickers again.

"Hey Tris," Christina says, "quick question; while you were in your fear landscape, Uriah was telling me that the leaders were laughing at something."

She grimaces and rolls her eyes. "Oh I'm so glad my mortal terror amuses them."

"Any idea what it was?"

She shakes her head.

"You're lying." She leans forward on the table. "You always bite the inside of your cheek when you lie."

"And you're blushing like all hell," Will adds.

"Everyone has tells," Christina continues. "Will's is pinching his lips together if it makes you feel any better, and Mimi gets really still like she's trying not to seem like she's lying." Will covers his mouth and I roll my eyes but don't deny it.

"Okay, fine." She sighs. "The fear was, uh...intimacy." Her blush brightens.

"Intimacy," Christina repeats, slower, "Like...sex?"

"Yes, now shut up about it," she hisses.

The three of us laugh and she buries her face in her hands.

"So what was that like?" Christina continues, still giggling. "I mean, did someone just try to do you or like...? Who was it?"

Her groan is muffled into her hands. She mutters, "Why do you want to know?"

"Can't I be curious about things?"

"Oh do share, Tris," I say, still giggling too much.

She huffs. "It wasn't anyone. Just some faceless, unidentifiable dude. How were your moths?"

"You promised you'd never tell anyone!" she exclaims as Will and I burst into even louder laughter.

"Moths," Will repeats through his laughter. "You're afraid of moths?"

"Not, like, individual moths; that would be stupid."

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, that would be stupid."

"Like...a swarm of them, all over the place; all those wings, and legs, and...eugh." She shudders.

"Terrifying," Will says, rolling his eyes in amusement. "That's my girl, tough as cottonballs."

She makes an indignant noise. "Oh like you two don't have stupid fears."

Will and I both shrug, glancing at each other. The funny thing about fear is that it's never stupid in the moment; I could never actually drown in blood or suffocate in a glass case but it feels very real and very panic inducing nonetheless.

The sound of microphone feedback brings our conversation to a halt. I grimace at the noise and look up at the balcony where I've seen the leaders sit before. Max, Eric, and the other three are all standing by the railing, a microphone in front of Max. He clears his throat and the other leaders step back.

"We aren't big on speeches here," he says. "Eloquence is for the Erudite." The crowd laughs but I don't. Like I said to Will, all that time ago, I'm not about to dumb myself down to fit into someone else's mold of what it means to be Dauntless. "So I'll keep this brief. Ten weeks ago, a group of newly dubbed adults fell into Dauntless; Two hundred and seventy eight Dauntless born, and a hundred and ten transfers. Of course, not just anyone can make the cut; we do have standards after all." For a man who spurns eloquence, he sure does seem to have quite the vocabulary. More than I would expect from him anyways. "Today we offer those who made the cut our congratulations!" The crowd cheers at that, people pounding on the tables too, like the very first night. "We believe in bravery. We believe in taking action. We believe in freedom from fear and in acquiring the skills to force the bad out of our world so that the good can prosper and thrive. If you also believe in those things, we welcome you!" I grin. I do believe in those things, truly. It doesn't matter what else I believe in, all the other little pieces of me that don't quite fit. I belong here and I have fought like hell to get to this day. And it's all about to pay off.

"Tomorrow, in their first act as members, our soon to be former initiates will choose their professions in the order they are ranked. I know that's what everyone's waiting for, to see how these hundred something futures begin. Ranks are determined by the scores from the three stages of initiation, each one worth more than the last. Every year there are some that outshine the others and competition, I believe, is a part of the Dauntless spirit. This year is no exception, we have seen those that crack under pressure and others that rise to the top. I won't keep you waiting any longer, here's to our Dauntless members!" He raises a glass one of the other leaders hands him and the others follow as a screen descends from the ceiling and comes to life behind him.

There at the very top are two number ones, two identical scores, two names, and two pictures I don't ever remember being taken.

"For the first time in fifty years," Max shouts above the noise, "two initiates have tied for first!"

At 498.987 points, Tris and I have tied for first. Will throws his arms around the both of us. We share a smile and I wrap one of my arms around her. Christina wriggles her way into our group hug, cheering.

I glance back up at the screen, obviously as invested in my friends' scores as my own.

2\. Uriah Pedrad: 487 points

3\. Lynn Candium: 443 points

4\. Marlene Brandish: 431 points

5\. Peter Hayes: 403 points

So Peter stays. Lovely. I knew it was going to take more than just our friend group to get rid of him. Besides, he's always been one of the best. Edward could have taken him out of the top five completely. I miss him and Myra so much

6\. Will Erble: 390 points

7\. Christina Romero: 386 points

We're in the top ten, all of us. Will is beaming, he wraps his arms around my waist and lifts me off my feet, pressing his lips to mine. Christina reaches across the table to hug Tris, both of them so small that they can barely reach each other. Uriah, Lynn, and Marlene join us; they shout their congratulations which I barely hear over all the other noise.

Will sets me back on my feet as Christina throws her arms around his neck and pulls him into a sloppy kiss. With one arm still around his neck and her other hand in my hair, she moves on to me next.

Will gasps and we pull apart, breathing heavily. I follow his stare to Tris, who is currently attached at the lips to Four.

"Oh, I so called that one," Christina says, snickers.

All three of us don't know whether to laugh or gawk and Tris looks back at us, smiling.

"There's a joke here," Will yells to her above the noise.

"There are several jokes here," I add, barely containing my laughter.

"Guess she's let go of Abnegation completely." Will giggles.

"Talk about a teacher's pet," I say.

"Kiss-up," Christina tries, laughing at her own joke.

"Ugh!" Tris interrupts us with a groan loud enough to hear over the noise and we break down into another fit of laughter. Four glares at us over her head but he's no longer our instructor, we have no reason to care about him anymore. If anything, him dating our friend means he has to be nice to us.

"I'm so sorry about them," she shouts at Four over the noise.

"I'm used to it," he says, rolling his eyes.

"Before we get on with the festivities," Eric says, the mic suddenly booming to life again. "We have just a bit of a formality. If you could all make your way to the Pit please."

We follow his orders and there's dividers set up to usher us into lines. I keep a tight grip on Will and Christina's hands. At the front of the lines, people are being injected with something.

"Tracking devices." Eric is still holding the microphone, his voice coming through speakers I had never noticed before. "Don't ask questions, just a precaution."

I have many questions, but I'm sure that I won't find any answers. Dauntless seems to be full of those, questions with no answers; or at least, not answers I can find.

It takes forever to get to the front of the line, but when I do Eric himself is standing next to the woman with a syringe, she waves Will forward and Eric beckons to me.

Christina steps forward as well but he rather abrasively says, "One at a time."

He produces an injector from his back pocket and stabs it into my neck without bothering with antiseptic or a warning.

I grimace, this one was more painful than any of the simulation injections.

"Hurts like a bitch, doesn't it?" he says.

I don't offer a response. I just go and meet up with Will at the other end and after Christina and Tris are injected we go back into the dining hall in search of more food.

"I wonder what that was about." Will says.

I shrug, "I doubt it will matter."

Why Dauntless would choose to do this tonight of all nights is a mystery to me, though not one I care much for solving at the moment. I'm sure it's some sort of new development that makes distribution a nightmare for the poor suckers that get stuck delivering this kind of thing when it starts getting mass-produced. That's always how it's been, Erudite makes something new and then proceeds to make it a living hell to get distributed on a city-wide scale and by the time they're done there's a slight lull and then they make something else that's new and the cycle starts all over again. I guess because Dauntless has a partnership with Erudite they get first delivery, although they've probably had this tracking thing for months now and it's been hell just trying to get it injected on a faction-wide scale.

Uriah and his friends catch up to us moments later, wiping away all thoughts of the strange injection.

The party starts up again like nothing ever happened. After a while, we spill out of the dining hall once more into the Pit, which has been cleaned up again for the party. People I've never even seen before come up to offer their congratulations to Tris and I. Pandora drags me out to dance in the center of the ground floor somewhere around midnight. My friends sans Tris follow us and we dance until we can barely stand.

For once, it's easy not to think about what could have been. I forget about Erudite, and everything that's happened, and missing my friends and family. The friends that I have right now – the family that I have now – shout stupid jokes to each other and laugh until our sides hurt. We drink, and gorge ourselves on food, and just this once let all the tension that's kept us going these last two weeks roll off our shoulders so that we can have fun. Four vanishes at some point but Tris sticks around, laughing off our gentle jabs at her new relationship and having fun just like the rest of us.

It must be about three in the morning when we stumble back into the dorm room, still joking around, and collapse into bed after exchanging our goodnights. Will, who is considerably tipsy, tries to kiss me goodnight and misses my mouth, misses again, and then a third time before I fix it for him while Christina laughs at us.

"Come cuddle with me, Mimi," she croons, giggling.

"Go to sleep." I roll my eyes in the most affectionate manner I can and then kiss her goodnight.

She whines and reaches out to me as she pulls away. "You're no fun."

"I know."

I practically collapse onto my bed, exhaustion overcoming me almost instantly. Will is already snoring and I can't seem to keep my eyes open. We forgot to turn the lights off, but I'm not about to get out of bed and go fix that.

I fall asleep with an absurdly large smile on my face.

Whatever comes tomorrow, I'm excited for it. In some ways it really does feel like my life has finally begun. Mostly though I just feel a sense of great relief. I did it, I made it through initiation. In fact, I did a lot more than just make it through. I landed the number one spot; I don't even care that it was a tie, frankly I don't think there's a better person that I could tie with.

I'm one step closer to leadership, one step closer to the life that I might not have always dreamed of but certainly one that I've come to love. I couldn't ask for better; I don't even think that things could possibly be better than they are right now.

When I came to Dauntless I was a nervous wreck about who I was and who I would become. Now I can't possibly imagine why I worried and I won't ever have to worry again.


	41. Chapter 41: Waking Nightmare

I wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of shuffling feet. I take a moment to swallow my annoyance before I push myself into a sitting position. Honest to god, I know that quiet has never exactly been Dauntless' forte, but being quiet when you get up in the middle of the night and there are six other people sleeping around you is just common fucking courtesy.

I realize the light is still on when I look up and am nearly blinded by it. I squint, letting my eyes slowly adjust. That's when I realize that it's not just one person making a fuckton of noise, it's everyone. They're all pulling on their clothes and shoes, but the weird part is that no one's talking. I can always at least count on Christina and Will to break the silence.

I look up at the clock, realizing that it's not even six yet. We went to bed at three, for everyone to be up this early is just ungodly.

"Christina," Tris hisses as my eyes are starting to glaze over again, making me snap awake again. She stands in front of my girlfriend, waving her hand in front of her face. She's still in her pajamas, she's the only one.

"Will?" She walks in front of him, shaking his shoulder. But he doesn't react. He doesn't even look up from tying his boots.

"Mimi?" She kneels down to be at eye-level with me. I'm fighting to keep my eyes open, falling back asleep even as she tries to get my attention. I mutter kind of incoherently and then drag myself off of my bed to grab my clothes. I hear her walk away from me and then more people starting to exit as I'm getting dressed. I move a little faster and them go after them.

It's odd for us all to be leaving single file; I don't think we've ever done that before, even last night we stood in less of a line and more of a cluster. I grab Christina's hand in front of me but she doesn't react, her fingers don't even curl around mine. I squeeze her hand but there's still nothing.

We fall in with the Dauntless-born filing out of their dorm and continue on. When we get out into the bit I realize with horror that it's not just us, this isn't just one final act of hazing. It's everyone; thousands of people all moving in machine-like unison down the levels of the Pit. I look around for anyone else I might know, or just anyone else that might be awake, but nothing seems to be the theme of the morning.

We veer into a smaller hallway, taking twists and turns until I hear water rushing above us. I expect Christina to squeeze my hand or something, I know she hates the Chasm, but she continues to just stare blankly ahead.

When we go under the glass tube no one looks around in wonder. But Amelie had said that most people didn't even know this was here and I know that my friends have never been down here before.

The Renovations- as Amelie called them – aren't quiet, which is unsettling enough. The tromping of our boots echoes through the hallways and down in the Pit I hear voices. Max's voice, Eric's voice, and a few more I don't recognize.

"They can see and hear us," Max says, "they just don't process it the same way. The commands come in through a transmitter and they follow."

"It's fucking magic," says one of the voices I don't recognize.

"No," says a voice that I do, but not as Dauntless, as Alice Sorell, Erudite's Director of Technology. "It's science."

"It's genius," Eric amends for the other person.

"We know," Alice says and I can hear the grin in her voice.

As we near the steps down I see something that makes my heart stop. A man walks around the line, shaking people and tapping them on the shoulder, asking what's going on.

"Divergent," Max's voice echoes as he speaks the word I've learned to fear.

The man walks toward Max and the other leaders and Eric meets him halfway, putting his hand on his shoulder.

"Hey," Eric says to him, "everything's fine there's nothing to worry about."

He then proceeds to take out a gun and shoot him right between the eyes. I have to press my lips together to suppress a scream and my hand jerks away from Christina's. I can't go down there, I'll be noticed for sure.

I back up, shoving my way through the crowd and getting away from the railing before I can be seen. My heart beats like a jackhammer; I've got to get out of here. Doesn't matter where, just not here.

Not here.

Anywhere but here.

As I'm doubling back through the hallway I see Amelie, unlike many of the other Dauntless her hair isn't disheveled from sleep. She must have been awake when whatever this is went into effect. I can't even imagine how terrifying that must be.

My conscience screams at me to help her, but my good sense knows that there's nothing I can do. As Max so helpfully just explained, she can't see or hear me in the way that I need her to. It's like she's sleeping, all that I can do is hope she isn't walking to her slaughter.

I know that I've left my friends to whatever awaits them. They aren't Divergent, they should be safe. But I still abandoned them, I'm still running away like a coward when I'm supposed to be Dauntless, one of the best according to the scores.

But if Four's even a little bit correct – and I really don't make a habit out of listening to him – I can chalk that achievement up at least partially to my advantage as a Divergent. Tris, who earned her place tied with me. It shouldn't even be a tie.

I keep pushing through the crowd, growing more panicked by the minute. I keep waiting for one of them to really be awake, to sell me out as Divergent. But their dead eyes don't even so much as glance in my direction. It's unsettling, to see all these people and know that not a single one of them can see me.

After a while I have to stop looking at them because it's just too unsettling. I make it back to the Pit, which is still mostly dark. Light shines out of a few places; there's trash, and balloons, and streamers all over the place and I know that the festivities continued long after I went to bed. The quiet is eerie to me, not like the Renovations – that place just looks deserted. This is like everyone just disappeared, which I guess they kind of did.

I don't know where I'm supposed to go, do I just wait out this waking nightmare in the dorms? What if no one comes back? And if I run, where do I go? The Dauntless look like they're dressed for war; wherever they're going I can bet there will be blood. Wandering the streets doesn't exactly sound like the best idea, and even if it did where would I go. To my siblings? To my parents? What would I say, '_Hey so everyone in Dauntless has basically turned into zombies and I can't figure out why_,'? Yeah, no.

Eventually I decide to go back to the dorm room. I sit down on the floor and grab my bag out from under my bed, taking stock of what's inside. I'll need it whether I run away or decide to wait this out. There's nothing inside that can help me much anyways.

I run my fingers over the journal that Will got me, something in me tempted to just curl up and write in it no matter how frivolous that is.

I tie my hair back into a braid to keep sections from falling in my face, the familiar motions of my fingers doing something to calm me no matter how strange it may sound. I can almost imagine that everything is fine, that I'm just getting ready for the day, but I've never heard the dorm room this quiet and it shouldn't be. I look around at all the empty beds. If I ignore the clock this could be anytime, the middle of the day when everyone's at lunch and I'm after a little peace and quiet. The lack of windows make it almost easy to imagine that everything's okay. My eyes are heavy with sleep; I've had maybe two hours of sleep if even that and my mattress – uncomfortable though it is – seems really appealing to me at the moment. I rub my eyes with the heels of my hands, trying to will away the urge to sleep. Then I press my head to the mattress, groaning.

I still haven't decided if I even care to find out what exactly what's going on. I seriously doubt that I want to know, the truth will probably only horrify me, and even if it didn't the 'why' doesn't even really matter. What's happening is happening and it doesn't much matter why it happens, now does it?

_How un-Erudite_, some part of me that is still the girl I used to be, the one my family knew me to be, hisses.

_Does that even matter anymore_? I think to myself. I'm already not Erudite, can't possibly get much further from it actually. The only way I really could would be Abnegation. But regardless of location, I've let go, for the most part anyways. I'll always love my family, of course, but that doesn't mean I have to miss every aspect of my old home and I certainly don't. There are things I never noticed that I loved, and then there's the things I really am glad to not have to deal with anymore. I never have to deal with anyone ever passive-aggressively calling me '_unconventional_' ever again.

What an incredibly trivial thing to focus on right now.

I let out a sigh, fighting to keep my eyes open and losing. I care, I swear I do; I want to help my friends and I want to help my faction. That's what Dauntless do, at their core past all the stunts and the rowdy behavior, they help people and to some degree I am Dauntless.

To some degree.

But not entirely. It would be incorrect to ever call myself so and that's not something I can run from no matter how good I get. Even if my world wasn't currently falling apart – because unless this is some final act of hazing it definitely is, I will never truly be anything. Not Dauntless, not conventionally Erudite, not unconventionally Erudite either.

Fear-induced adrenaline fights bone deep exhaustion, even Four never woke us up this early and we'd never been so active the night before. Even ziplining and capture the flag hadn't exhausted me in this way. All of the exhaustion I'd been fighting from the physical rigor of stage one to the sleepless nights of stage two are crashing down on me at once. What a time for that to happen to, when I should be formulating some kind of plan. That's what my siblings would do, they're geniuses and they would know how to handle this. But I'm not my siblings, am I?

I know that Four would probably snap at me to get up right about now and for once I'd be inclined to listen to him. Tris and Christina would probably physically pull me to my feet and I'd follow their lead. Will would probably be next to me, agreeing wholeheartedly with my desire to just sleep but we'd spur each other into action because at the end of the day we both still can't just sit and do nothing. Al would…_Al_. Al would be afraid. He would be afraid and unashamed of it; if there was one thing that I learned from him is that there's no true shame in being afraid no matter how much Eric and Four attempted to convince us all otherwise. I can't fight what I don't know and I don't know this. You would think that by now – after everything that Dauntless has thrown at me, I would be more equipped at handling the unknown. Maybe I am in theory, a good fighter and a halfway decent shot, but that doesn't mean I want to use those skills. I never liked having to learn them and I only did because they were a part of Dauntless initiation; I want to fight my battles in the council chambers with my words, my winning the day would be mean lasting change. Getting up and charging out into who knows what means who knows what.

I can't sit here and do nothing, but I also don't know what it is I can do. Maybe it would have been smarter to just play along and stick with the crowd but it's a little difficult to come up with foolproof plans when you've just woken up and watched someone get shot.

"Okay," I mutter to myself, "okay." Then I force myself to get to my feet. I have no plan, no help, nothing but my own frazzled and shot mind and body to work with.

Oh god, I'm so boned.

I snatch my journal from under my mattress and clutch it to my chest. If nothing else, at least I have this. If I don't come back to Dauntless ever again, at least I'll have this. I shuffle my way through the maze of bunkbeds to the door and take one last look back as I turn the knob. I hadn't ever really appreciated the close quarters before, every moment spent with my friends not more than an arm's reach from me.

I realize for the first time that this room feels like home; warm, and lively, and bright. Without noticing it, I slotted right into place here with my friends.

I hope I make it back.

I leave and walk quickly down the darkened hallway, holding my journal tight against my chest. The winding halls seem more claustrophobic and ominous than ever, the spaces between the lights on the ceiling too long and too dark.

I can't stay here, I have to run. To Erudite. To Candor. To Amity. To anywhere that isn't here.


	42. Chapter 42: Face to Face

**Tris**

I follow along with the line down the stairs. When we reach the ground floor I swear that Eric looks right at me.

"There's the initiates." Eric points us out to the Erudite man that drove me back to Dauntless when I went to visit Caleb a few weeks ago, Ryan. His gaze is as scathing as ever, and his eyes skim over us all before he turns back to Eric, his mouth pressed into a firm line. "So, where is she?"

Eric shrugs. "How should I know?" He sounds bored, almost flippant and that makes Ryan's frown deeper.

"You know that if she doesn't turn up before this goes down it's your head, right? At least tell me that you remembered to give her what we gave you."

"I'm not stupid, okay? You wanna tell me what that was about now? I mean I get that she's–"

Ryan cuts him off with a terse, "Didn't anyone ever teach you to do what you're told and shut up about it?"

Eric takes a breath but never gets further into his protest because Max says, "Eric, give it a rest."

Eric turns on Ryan. "Look, if you want to check every traincar before we get out of here then be my guest. But I'm telling you to that she'll turn up eventually."

Ryan puts his hand on his hip and tosses his head as he rolls his eyes. "Whatever," he drawls, "it's your funeral, not mine."

"It's your funeral," Eric mocks him under his breath.

"This is boring," says the woman, her voice very flat and dull. "I'm going back to the control room. Call me when you're going to do something besides stand around and argue."

She walks away, up another set of stairs back toward the room Four and I spied on her and the others setting up.

As we approach the table full of guns and ammunition, I watch the people in front of me pick it up in perfect synch. That's going to be hard to copy, but I'm going to have to if I don't want them to notice me.

I try my best to copy Will's movements, but I fumble more than once and I don't know how they didn't notice. Or maybe they did and I just waiting to shoot me, watching me squirm because it's fun for them.

When we're armed, I follow the line back up out of Neo Dauntless. An above ground exit has been propped open and we all file out of it. It's beginning to snow and the sun is only just breaking the horizon, painting the sky a pale purple.

For the first time, the train is stopped. Everyone climbs in with the same robotic movements that I find it hard to replicate, I didn't think it was possible for a living person to move so stiltedly. I still don't think it's possible for a fully awake person to move so stiltedly.

I can guess that the leaders are the only Dauntless awake, well, them and the Divergent. That has to be the reason I'm awake when they clearly didn't mean for me to be. And that means Tobias is awake too, unless I'm wrong about him.

Oh, please don't let me be wrong about him.

I scan the crowd without turning my head as far as I can in both directions, searching for him. I see all my fellow initiates around me, I spot Mimi's older sister– Pandora, if I remember correctly – who introduced herself over the pounding music last night. And speaking of Mimi, I don't see her either; it's not like she's very hard to find, the streaks in her hair are almost offensively bright.

When we're in the traincar is risk turning my head to look around. That's when I see him, at the very front in the corner. He stands as still as everyone else and he very nearly blends in, but the tattoos on his neck would give him away anywhere.

I slip through the crowd of people, careful not to touch them in case I accidently set off some kind of attack mode or something. I slide up toward the front and I'm almost halfway there when the train starts moving suddenly and I'm nearly thrown backward. I had to grab the wall to keep from falling, but at least now I know that there's no one watching me in here because that would have absolutely given me away. I keep moving once I get my balance again and squeeze between Tobias and the person next to him. I glance up at his face and my stomach drops. His eyes are just as blank as the others. Was I wrong about him being Divergent?

Tears threaten to gather in my eyes and I blink to keep them from falling as I look away from him. I am alone, I am going to face this war Erudite wants to wage against Abnegation alone because all my friends are zombies and so is my boyfriend. It's enough to make anyone want to cry.

Then a hand brushes mine. I think it's just because the car is rocking. Then the fingers slip through mine and Tobias squeezes my hand. I stifle the urge to gasp, my whole body coming alive with energy. He is awake; I was right about him. I let a small smile cross my face and I squeeze his hand. He rubs his thumb in small, slow circles on the back of my hand.

I stare at the wall even though I want to look at him so badly. In what feels like simultaneously no time at all and a thousand years, the breaks squeal and I'm almost thrown forward into the wall. My heart begins to pound in my chest and it becomes hard to breathe.

Tobias and I fall in with everyone else, marching in unison with thousands of others. The Abnegation sector comes into view and I can hardly breathe. The sun is just barely breaking over the horizon, everything is so peaceful now. And we're about to shatter that for what, so that Erudite can have their control? Even knowing what I do about the Erudite, it's hard to believe that any person could be so cruel and underhanded.

We keep walking, some people break off from the group and begin to disperse throughout the sector, I choose to stick with the crowd to get to my house. We pass by the place that I used to go every few months to exchange my old wardrobe for a nearly identical one, the bus stop Caleb and I waited at every weekday morning, the strip of cracked sidewalk Caleb and I used to pretend would swallow us up if we stepped on a crack and it became a game between us and the Black siblings to see who could get across the fastest. Susan is still here, she was the only one of the four of us that stayed. We were never all that close, but she was my friend. I don't see her now.

A shot rings out and I almost trip over my own feet. I want to scream, tears well up in my eyes but then Tobias squeezes my hand so hard it's almost painful and I force myself to breathe.

"My family," I mutter. "We have to find them."

"Okay."

The shouts and shots around me send chills down my spine, my teeth chatter, and my hands shake even though we're all well bundled up.

I see a Dauntless soldier push a gray-clothed man to his knees. I recognize the man—he is a council member. The soldier, with sightless eyes, fires a bullet into the back of the council member's skull. I recognize the hawk tattoo poking up over her jacket collar on the back of her neck, the hair that usually covers it tied up into a bun made messy with sleep.

The soldier is Tori. I want to cry but instead I force myself to keep walking. But when I have to step over the council member's hand my legs feel like lead and I want to collapse. I don't want to do this, I don't even know what I'm supposed to be doing. I find my family and then what? We take on an army of Dauntless soldiers just the four of us, go down in a blaze of glory while Jeanine takes her victory? Or do we run and leave the Abnegation and Dauntless to their fate? My parents would never allow that, my conscience wouldn't allow it. Every Abnegation will die if this continues and Tobias and I are the only ones that can stop it but how?

More people break away from the cluster, leaving to carry out unspoken orders. Pretty soon it will just be the two of us and someone's bound to notice that we aren't acting like the rest do.

My eyes dart back and forth, searching for my friends, searching for anyone familiar. I can't leave my friends, can I, they matter to me just as much as my family? After everything we've been through, they practically are my family. But I don't know how to help them, they're all trapped in the sim, Erudite's puppets.

We reach my house and duck inside, it's lucky that no one sees us.

"Mom?!" I call. "Dad?!" But the house seems to be abandoned; maybe they ran, or maybe they're already dead and I'm too late.

"Where would they have gone?" Tobias asks.

"I don't know." I say. I really don't know anything about my parents. If they ran I probably won't find them.

We leave the house, holding our guns up just in case someone's waiting, but they aren't. We get a chance to fall in line with a small group on their way to some other part of the sector. As we walk I get better at matching their steps. It's unsettling, how underneath the screams and the gunfire is the constant beat of unnaturally in sync footsteps.

We pass by Max and Eric, who are just standing there watching the carnage. I want to tear them to shreds but instead I keep my eyes ahead of me, only aware of them in my periphery. But then Eric puts his hand out and it catches Tobias' chest, stopping him. He doesn't so much as blink and all the others keep walking so that's what I do to for a few more steps, then I duck around a corner and watch the scene unfold.

"Legendary Four, a mindless drone." Eric says in twisted awe. "You were first in your class and now you're…nothing. No one's going to remember that I came in second place now, huh? No one's going to ask me '_So what was it like to train with the guy with only four fears?'_ anymore." He chuckles. "Bet you're regretting turning that job down now. Maybe don't take advice from crazy women, eh?" His laughter continues.

Tobias shows no reaction, he's far above Eric's goading and even if he wasn't the threat of being shot is enough incentive for him to keep quiet for now.

"What?" Max asks. "Think he might be…?"

"Only one way to find out." He pulls out the same gun he used to shoot the man back at the compound and levels it with Tobias' head. "Say goodbye, Asshole." His voice drips with cruel satisfaction that makes my skin crawl.

I dart out from behind the corner and level my gun with Eric's chest. "Goodbye, Asshole." Some part of me deep in my mind muses that my friends probably would have found that funny. I'll be sure to tell them about it if we survive.

Max whips out his gun and points it at my head before I even finish my sentence.

Tobias moves suddenly and points his gun at Max's head, "Move and you die."

"The Stiff?" Eric laughs, "Two Stiffs." He pokes Tobias' head with the barrel of his gun. "Two dead Stiffs."

"We can't let a single Divergent slip through our fingers." Max says, his voice quiet and unsettlingly calm. "This is what happens."

Eric seems unconcerned by both the situation and Max's statement. "She's not gonna shoot me." Tobias and I must have done a good job convincing Eric that I'm not a threat, even holding a gun to him he still doesn't think I'm able to hurt him.

"Interesting theory," I say. But I can't quite bring myself to kill him even if I know that he deserves it, that he'll kill Tobias and I both without a passing thought. Still, when he whips around and forces my gun down I fire into his foot the moment the barrel of his gun is away from Tobias' head. He screams and before Max can shoot me in retaliation, Tobias slams the butt of his gun into his face. We run, my heart pounding too hard for just the small amount of activity. I've never shot a real person before and I can't shake the uneasiness or the rush of adrenaline that comes with it.

As we round the corner under fire from the nearby soldiers, my arm explodes in pain. I almost drop my gun and gnash my teeth together to keep myself from screaming. I trip over myself and hitting the pavement knocks the wind out of me. I can feel the vibrations of dozens of boots running toward us through the ground.

I glance up at Tobias, his eyes wide and afraid, and scream, "Run!"

"No," he replies remarkably calmly for how scared his eyes are.

We're surrounded in moments. Tobias helps me up and I can now get a good look at the mindless soldiers surrounding us.

Eric and Max approach us, Eric hobbling on one foot and his face sickly white but still contorted with rage.

"Drop your weapons!" Max commands.

Against what my instincts tell me what to do, I obey. Tobias and I lock our hands together as they close in on us. At least, no matter what happens, I'm not going to die alone.

I guess that's sort of comforting.

The guards keep a tight grip on our arms despite the fact that our hands are tied behind our backs and there are guns pointed at us, forcing us to keep walking toward the council building. Every step sends shocks of pain down my arm. Blood runs down my sleeve, dripping off of my hand and leaving a speckled trail behind us. Eric leans heavily on an awake soldier, in too much pain or too enraged to taunt us on the way in. It's hard to be afraid of what's waiting for us in the building when I'm in so much pain. Though I'm sure whatever it is, it will be one of the last things we ever see.

The council building is a small, squat structure that's gray just like every other building in Abnegation, but there's an unusual number of guards posted outside of it and inside there are Dauntless and Erudite alike milling around. They take us down a hallway to another unusually well guarded door. The inside is just a desk with a few chairs and inside are five people. Gwendolyn Morgan is sitting in one chair, tablet in hand, her eyes skimming over whatever's on it with that familiar frown. Jeanine is sitting at the desk, turned to the side talking to her red haired assistant, who looks like she would rather be literally anywhere else. And Carolina is off to the side, speaking – no, yelling – at her own assistant.

"I don't care if they're already here," Jeanine says in a very annoyed tone. "Put some of them _back_ on the train then. It's imperative that the room be well guarded."

"What the hell do you mean you can't find her?! That is not the right answer, Ryan!" Carolina snarls and her own assistant.

Ryan opens his mouth to defend himself but turns his head at the sound of our footsteps. "Why don't you ask him?" He jabs his thumb toward Eric. "He's the dumbass that can't follow basic orders." He lets out a sharp laugh. "Both of them."

Carolina whirls around to face him, furious and Eric gulps. The others turn their heads as well; Jeanine with a glare that could give me frostbite, her assistant looking rather bored with all of this, and Gwendolyn who just presses her lips together after a second and then looks back at her tablet.

Carolina takes a deep breath, and then more calmly says, "Eric, would you like to explain to me exactly what possessed you to disregard my very," she pauses, beginning to seethe again, "_excruciatingly_ simple orders?"

"I told your assistant that it was his job to play babysitter, not mine. You told me to leave your kid alone, and I have, no matter how annoying she got, no matter how many rules she broke, I ensured that she was never damaged by it. But I'm not about to derail the entire operation to watch after your slippery, errant princess."

I frown, putting together that they're talking about Mimi. What does Carolina mean that they can't find her? Shouldn't she be in the sim executing Abnegation just like all the others? Or maybe already safe back in Erudite headquarters with the rest of her family? I glance at Tobias, who seems just as confused by all of this.

"How _dare_ you?" The snarl is back. Her eyes narrow and she steps closer to Eric. "You will do whatever the hell I tell you to do and you will do it without complaint."

He opens his mouth to say something that in all likelihood would only get him into more trouble, but Carolina interrupts him before he can. "We will discuss this later. Get out of my sight before I have you shot." He turns and leaves as fast as he can with his wounded foot. I can't blame him honestly. I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of that kind of wrath either. Although, I think that I'm about to.

"Alexi, Ryan," Jeanine says as Carolina turns away to cross the room and stand beside her. Both assistants perk up at the sound of their names. "Go fix what Max and Eric's incompetence has caused, won't you?"

"At once." Alexi nods.

On their way out, Ryan jabs his finger into Max's chest hard enough to make him step back. He hisses, "I am getting pretty sick and goddamn tired of cleaning up after you and your idiot staff. So maybe spend a little less time posturing and a little more actually doing what you're fucking told," his voice begins to grow louder with every word, "or so help me god I will gouge your eyes out and make you fucking eat them!" The assistants leave, slamming the door behind them.

I decide not to even think about what that would look like and instead focus on the three women in front of me who seem unfazed by Ryan's almost impressive display of rage, and instead are eyeing me like I'm either an animal about to be slaughtered or something they scraped off their shoe.

"They're Divergent," Max says.

"Yes, obviously." Jeanine stands and walks around to the other side of the desk, Carolina matching her step for step and Gwendolyn standing when they stop. The guards tightening their grip on both of us is the only thing keeping me from lunging forward and attacking them.

"You," she gestures to Tobias, "I suspected, all the problems with your initiation and whatnot left me wondering for some time." She glances behind her. "And Carolina always did agree."

"And yet you didn't come back?" he says. "Once you got Azalea out of the way, why didn't you just come back and finish what you started?!"

Jeanine chuckles but offers no response. He's mentioned Azalea to me before, she preceded Max and in his opinion Jeanine had her killed because she was actively standing in the way of her plot.

Something in Gwendolyn's face flickers when he mentions the ex-leader and he must notice it because he nods in her direction. "Did you not tell her? And all these years I just figured she'd just been okay with it."

Gwendolyn opens her mouth, but Carolina glances back and cuts her off. "He can't prove a word he says. For all we know, he could have killed your mother." At the word '_mother_', Gwendolyn's cheeks darken. "He certainly had easy access to her home." She hums in amusement and Gwendolyn visibly shudders.

Tobias never mentioned that his mentor's daughter was Jeanine's assistant. How can he say what he does about Mimi when he can clearly see that people change sides sometimes?

"You," Jeanine continues, disregarding the whole exchange entirely and not even bothering to assure Gwendolyn that she didn't. "You don't make much sense. You're far more brazen than Eaton ever was," he cringes at his last name coming out of her mouth. "And yet you seemed to slip through the cracks again and again."

"I think the lesson here is that we can't trust Eric to do anything right," says Carolina, an amused lilt in her voice blending with the fury that bubbles up as she mentions Eric.

Jeanine chuckles and glances back at her for a second before her expression freezes over like the almost-smile was never there in the first place. I would really love nothing more than to strangle her, I swear to god. They might kill me but it wouldn't matter if Jeanine was dead too.

"Now that your intelligence has been verified, maybe you should get on with killing us," Tobias spits, "you to have a lot of Abnegation to murder before the day is done."

If his comments bother Jeanine or any of them they don't let on. An unsettling smile spreads across Carolina's face and she and Jeanine share an amused look.

"Quiet," Carolina says in a dismissive tone, like we're either subordinates or children and I don't really like either.

The two of them take a few steps away and converse for a moment, standing almost close enough to touch. Gwendolyn stands there, not straining to hear them, not doing anything but glancing back at whatever's so interesting on her tablet.

I don't know which of them is the most infuriating; Jeanine, who appears to be treating all of this like it's just another day and not like she's waging war on an entire faction just outside the walls of this building; Carolina, who seems to regard Tobias and I like we're particularly amusing animals; or Gwendolyn, who doesn't seem to care at all and looks more bored of this than anything else.

"We're going to be here all day," Tobias mutters to me, jutting his chin back at Jeanine and Carolina; I can't help but laugh a little bit. If I'm going to die, why not go out finding a little humor in what is otherwise the most horrible thing that's ever happened to me. Very quietly, off to the side, I think I hear Max chuckle as well.

Whatever they're talking about, Jeanine begins to grow more insistent. They're not quite arguing yet, but Carolina furrows her brow and folds her arms. She clearly doesn't like whatever it is Jeanine it saying to her but she finally concedes with a nod. If I'm reading her lips right it looks like she says something like '_Whatever you say_.'

They turn back to us, Jeanine looking a little too pleased with herself but there's no vicious glee in her eyes or the hint of sadism I would expect from someone who can kill thousands of people. She seems more machine than maniac to me, she pursues goals based off of her own curiosity and bases actions off of the data she collects. Abnegation stood in the way of her desire for power, so she found a way to eliminate it. She didn't have an army, so she found one in Dauntless. She knew that she would need to control large groups of people in order to stay secure, so she developed a way to do it with serums and transmitters. Divergence is just another problem for her to solve. That's what makes her so terrifying, she's smart enough to solve anything, even the problem of our existence.

She looks us both up and down, then frowns. Her eyes focus on me, silvery gray like melted steel.

She brings her hand up and presses the wound in my arm, making me groan and writhe.

"She's injured," she says to no one in particular, "any results we gather may be tainted." She nods at the guards. "You can get rid of her, but bring Eaton with us."

"No!" Tobias cries. He breaks free of his guards and kisses me fiercely on the mouth. At least when I die the last memory I have will be of our kiss. He darts forward before the guards can regain their grip on him and grabs Jeanine's shoulder as she's walking away, forcing her to turn around and then he wraps his hands around her throat.

The guards spring into action, all of their guns at the ready and I scream, expecting splatters of blood as they kill him. But there's the dull sound of something hard hitting bone and then Tobias and Jeanine are pulled in opposite directions, dragged apart by Gwendolyn and Carolina. Gwendolyn had hit Tobias with the butt of a handgun she produced from god knows where and then she sweeps his legs out from under him, laying him out on his back. Her boot comes down hard on his chest and he wheezes. She cocks the gun and points it at his head. I scream again, tears in my eyes as I try to struggle against the guards while my bleeding arm screams in protest. Jeanine stumbles back into Carolina's arms, coughing and gasping for air, turning away for a moment. No matter how mechanical she may seem to me, she's human still and there are tears in her eyes. She grips Carolina's dress so hard her knuckles turn white and leans on her. Gwendolyn is still paused, waiting for their okay before she kills him. If Carolina seemed angry before, she seems absolutely murderous now. Her arm wrapped around Jeanine's shoulders is tight and her other hand rests on her upper arm, holding her close. If looks could kill, she would have flayed Tobias and I alive in seconds by now.

"Go ahead, Gw–" she starts.

"No," Jeanine cuts her off, her voice scratchy. She lets go of Carolina and stands straight, brushing herself off then readjusting her jacket and rubbing her bright red throat. Carolina drops one arm but the one around her shoulders stays and so does the look, the one that says she wants to kill us.

Gwendolyn opens her mouth to protest, but once again she's interrupted. Jeanine narrows her eyes and in a very sharp tone says, "Gwendolyn."

Gwendolyn tucks the gun into the back of her waistband and takes her foot off of Tobias' stomach, letting the guards handle him. Carolina leans down and whispers something in Jeanine's ear, she nods and then mutters something.

Carolina looks up at Max, "Deal with them." He nods and she leads Jeanine out of the room, Gwendolyn following behind them. She gives us one last glance before disappearing behind the door, one last glance that says she would kill us both if given the opportunity.

There's a part of me that still can't believe that's Mimi's mom, the woman who seemed so kind every time I saw her. For a second I can almost understand why Mimi kept trying to insist that she, and Jeanine, and Erudite in general weren't so bad. She didn't like the idea of everything she's ever loved turning out to be wrong. I thought the same of Abnegation, but I was wrong too; there were horrors that the faction hid to protect Marcus.

But I don't get to continue that thought because suddenly Tobias and I are being dragged from the room. We split down the hallway in opposite directions, screaming for each other. I can't lose him, I can't. I fight against the guard with every ounce of strength I have, but it's useless. His grip is stronger and he would be able to keep a hold on me even if I wasn't injured. Desperate, I twist and somehow find a way to sink my teeth into his hand. He doesn't scream, or make any audible reaction at all for that matter, even when I taste blood. My second guard strikes me with the butt of his gun and I feel woozy, but don't quite go unconscious. The world dims around me and suddenly my legs feel more like cooked noodles than flesh and bone. I'm literally dragged out into the light, which seems blinding to me, the sounds of chaos deafening. I'm vaguely aware that I should be getting up, fighting this, but my head and arm throb in unison and all I want is to lay down and take a nap.

They drag me around a corner and then drop me in the grass. It's cold with morning dew, seeping through my clothes to raise goosebumps on my skin. I press my cheek into the cool ground, the burn slightly alleviated by it. At least I'll die comfortably. I hear the gun cock and I don't know if keeping my eyes open is better or worse. I see dozens of pairs of feet running past me, a few yards away. I could scream but it would do nothing, even the Abnegation wouldn't stop to help me - can't stop to help me.

I can't see what color the sky is. I don't know how much time has passed in between me trying to save everyone and now not being able to help anyone. My parents will die, my brother will stay tied up in Erudite's lies, my friends will be turned into slaves, my boyfriend into a lab rat.

Seconds feel like hours, every breath of mine comes slow and shallow as I wait for them to end me. It's surreal, like a simulation, like a dream. If this were a simulation I could escape it, dive into a puddle or sprout wings and fly away. If this were a dream, Tobias would be around any minute acting as our human alarm clock ready to put us through the ringer again. Maybe Al was right, maybe getting punched in the face all the time _was_ easier. All my friends were all just friends back then, there were no problems between us; we were _all_ pretty bad at what we were supposed to be doing.

But this isn't a dream, and this isn't a sim. I'm going to die and I can't even find the will to get up and fight it.

Maybe I really am a coward.


	43. Chapter 43: Reunion

I hear a shot and expect to feel a searing pain just like a did earlier, but I don't feel anything. More shots, so close to me that they can't just be from the Dauntless murdering the Abnegation. But nothing happens to me, there's no pain or sudden darkness; I can still feel the damp grass on my cheek and hear my breath.

"Beatrice!" my mother's voice. I close my eyes, thinking that I must be hallucinating. But my eyes flash open again and I groan when she leans down, shaking me and pressing my wound in the process. "Oh my god, Sweetheart!"

She rolls me over onto my back and I can look up at her. She's very real, and very frantic, she turns away from me momentarily to shoot at the soldiers closing in on us.

"Can you stand?"

It takes me a minute to stop mumbling incoherently and form real words. "Yeah. Help me up." She puts one hand on my uninjured arm and the other on my back, pulling me to my feet. She takes a gun off of a fallen Dauntless soldier and presses it into my hands. I take it, not really sure how good my aim will be when the ground underneath me feels like it's tilting back and forth.

"Stay close to me." She keeps a tight grip on my arm as we take off running. I'm suddenly grateful for all those laps we ran during training, my lungs don't burn like they used to and muscle memory propels me forward.

"Mom," I say weakly in a voice that doesn't sound like mine as we run, staring wide-eyed at the gun in her hands. "You were Dauntless."

She nods as we stop, pressing up against a wall in an alley behind a dumpster. I hear what sounds like an entire army pass by us, one person shouting directions at all the rest.

"It's served me well today," she whispers. "Now, your father and some of the others are hiding out in a storehouse near the factionless sector. We have to get to them."

I stare at her, having not quite processed that first bit of information. I saw her every day for sixteen years, how did I never consider the possibility that she could be anything but Abnegation-born? How did I never notice this whole other person living underneath the patient, perfect Abnegation wife and mother?

"You can ask all the questions you want later." She puts her hand on my back. "Right now, we have to run."

We get up and start sprinting again. I can still hear gunfire behind me, but it becomes more and more distant and things begin to feel dreamlike again. The only things that keep me grounded in reality are the throbbing in my arm, my feet pounding on the concrete, and the warmth of my mother's hand in mine.

"How did you find me?" I say through my heavy breathing.

"A few other Abnegation and I volunteered to go back and try and save others if we could find them. It was always my intention to save you."

"But I betrayed you," I say, my voice cracking. "I left you."

She stops and we hide behind another corner.

"You're my daughter," she whispers. "I don't care about factions."

I know that now isn't really the time to be asking questions, that I should be waiting until we reach the safety of the hideout, but there are things I still need to know.

"Mom, how do you know about Divergence? What is it...why…?"

She opens the bullet chamber to check how many shots she has left, then reloads. When she looks back at me there's a fire in her eyes I've never seen before, or maybe just never noticed. "I know because I am one. I was only safe because my mother was a Dauntless leader, she was smart enough to see right through Selene and Norman's little act and she did everything she could to protect me and everyone else, but they didn't listen and Selene had her silenced for her troubles the moment she gained power." She seems almost bitter on her mother's behalf, lost in her own thoughts for a second and seeming to forget that I don't know who Selene and Norman are. "All she could do was try and protect me, she told me to leave and find a safe place to hide, somewhere far out of their reach. Funnily enough, that's what your father wanted too." She stands a little straighter. "I had hoped the gene would skip over you and Caleb both, and I didn't want to push you into lives you didn't want." I don't understand every word she says, in fact I don't even think that I understand most of the words she says, but I know enough to understand that she gave up all of her freedoms to hide from the monsters that want to kill us. That almost killed me if she hadn't come to my rescue.

She looks behind us, gasping and swearing under her breath. "Here they come." She grabs my arm again. "Ready?"  
I force a nod.

We dash out under a hail of bullets, my mother turning back every so often to fire into the crowd. I rely on her sense of direction, having never had a very good one myself, and try to protect us both.

I'm not sure if my body feels weightless or heavier than lead, maybe both. I breathe heavily but none of it feels like it's going into my lungs. The thing that keeps me going is my mother yelling at me just that; not the threat of death, not the desire to save everyone, but suddenly I'm a child again only doing something because my mom told me to.

We are not Dauntless; we are brave, yes, but not Dauntless. Dauntless has conformity that I don't, that she doesn't either. We don't do what we do because our faction manifesto or our leaders tell us to do it, we do this because it's the right thing to do. I don't want to leave my friends, my family, everyone I've ever known to suffer under Jeanine's thumb.

A bullet interrupts my train of thought, whizzing by so close to my head it almost clips off some of my hair. I turn back around to return fire but nearly stumble when I see who it is. Will and two other Dauntless run in unison. In an instance, I trip over myself and almost fall, then my mother does fall with a sharp cry of pain. There's blood pouring from her leg and she manages to drag herself behind a box before she can be shot again. I dive behind that same cover, scraping against the pavement and getting sharp pebbles embedded in my hands. The Dauntless soldiers don't stop, bits of shrapnel fly around us as they wear down our cover. They'll have to reload eventually, but we could both be dead by then.

"Give me your jacket," my mother commands and I obey her without a word. Though not without difficulty; it's hard to take of a jacket with only one hand, it's harder when the other arm feels like it's on fire every time it shifts. She rolls it up and ties it tight around her bleeding leg.

She mutters to herself, "That should buy us about ten minutes." Then she looks up at me. "You've got to get out of here."

"What?!" I shout over the gunfire. "No, I'm not leaving you!"

"Beatrice!" she exclaims. "You're not going to be able to run, shoot, and support me at the same time. I'll take care of myself, you go."

"No!" I cry. "No, I can't leave you!"

"You have to!"

I shake my head and duck out from behind the box, firing. I take out the Dauntless soldier to Will's left. He falls and doesn't get up. I fight the guilt that swells within me, they aren't themselves but that doesn't matter right now. I'm not going to make it out alive if I'm afraid of hurting them.

But Will is my friend, I know him. I know that he's a good person, and even better a good friend. I take out the soldier on his right too. Then it's just him and me, and my mother with her back pressed against the box, breathing heavily. A darker spot in my jacket grows larger by the minute and she's white as a sheet.

I look into Will's lifeless eyes and let my tears track down my face as I pull the trigger and then quickly duck back behind the box. I know that I hit him in the head, because that's where I aimed.

I burst into tears and my mother, despite the fact that she is slowly bleeding to death, leans over and puts her arm around me, caressing my unhurt arm. For a second I forget all about the danger that we're in while I sob into my knees. I killed him to save us both, but I still killed him.

I see Will's smile on the backs of my eyes; his straight teeth, gentle laugh, bright eyes. I remember the way that he would fix his hair, sarcastically saying that there was a science to getting it to look so perfectly messy, the overdramatic way that he responded to Mimi and Christina's ribbing. We didn't always agree, but he was always my friend. He challenged what I thought of Erudite and even if I was right. He loved Christina and Mimi and they loved him too.

She holds my while I cry for a few more minutes and then whispers, "We have to go. There are people who can treat my wounds hiding out with your father, but I'm not sure how long I'm going to be able to guide you."  
I wrap my arm around her shoulder and haul her to her feet, she limps along beside me. I strain my ears listening for distant footsteps. Who will I have to kill next? Mimi? Christina?

But I don't hear anything at all.

We reach the edge of factionless territory and my mother points me toward a small warehouse I would never have payed attention to before. Though I guess that's kind of the idea. She pounds on the door in a very careful rhythm. It flings open and Caleb of all people stands in the doorway.

"Oh my god." He stares at us for a few seconds and then throws his arms around me and my mother both. His hand presses the wound in my shoulder and I have to bite my lip to keep from crying out.

"Caleb, baby," my mother mutters. "We need to get inside."

He gasps, suddenly realizing that she's injured. We help her up the steps and he kicks the door shut behind them.

"Will someone please lock that for me," he calls.

It draws more people toward the entryway. A man who I recognize as a council member gasps at the sight of my mother, picking her up and calling for my father and a woman called Maria. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Caleb wiping his eyes.

"Are you crying?" I ask, stepping toward him.

He vigorously shakes his head even as tears start to gather there again. I hug him tight and he squeaks in surprise, then hugs me back. He rests his chin on the shoulder of my injured arm and it sends a shock of pain right down to my fingertips. This time, I groan in pain and he yanks back.

"Beatrice, oh my god, did you get shot?!"

"Mhm."

He puts his hand on my back and ushers me along. The main part is dimly lit, but I recognize a few people. From behind a stack of palettes, I can hear my mother's pained groans. A few dozen Abnegation sit huddled together and among them I can pick out the familiar faces; old neighbors, friends, classmates, my parents' coworkers. Susan Black is sitting alone with her face buried in her palms. I look around, but don't see her parents anywhere. My father comes out from behind the palettes and when he sees me he looks at me like I've grown a second head. Then another man comes over and stands next to him, the very sight of whom gives me a headache. Marcus.

"Mom," I mutter, my voice weak.

"Will be fine," my father says. "One of ours is taking care of her." At that very moment, my mother lets out another guttural groan of pain that makes my father cringe. He mutters again, "She's fine." I can't tell if he's assuring me or himself.

"My shoulder...my head…" Now that I'm safe - relatively speaking anyways, the adrenaline that's kept me going is starting to fade. I'm starting to sway on my feet and Caleb's hold on me grows more firm. Another sob bubbles up inside of me and I crumple like a leaf. Caleb ushers me over to a box in the light and for the first time I get a good look at him.

He's wearing gray again, seeing him in Erudite would feel like a dream if his hair weren't so long and there weren't faint black marks on his cheeks - mascara smudged by tears.

Susan hands me a bottle of water and Caleb pulls out a first aid kit, then glances behind the palette.

"Maria's already…" he trails off.

My father puts his hand on Caleb's shoulder. "I'll take care of it." He takes the kit from his hands and sits down beside me, starting to cut away my sleeve with a pair of medical scissors. Caleb help him peel the fabric away, revealing my Abnegation tattoo. They stare with the exact same look of wonder, but they say nothing about it.

"How did this happen?" He asks quietly, then adds, "The wound, not the tattoo."

"I was shot running from the Dauntless leaders. Then they dragged me before Jeanine and her entourage so they could gloat. I-"

My father interrupts me. "Wait, Jeanine was _here_?"

I nod. "In the council chambers. She, and Carolina, and their assistant Gwendolyn left after they were done with T - with me."

Caleb furrows his brow in confusion. "Wait, Gwendolyn as in Gwendolyn Morgan? Short, black eyes, real scary?"

I nod slowly. My father starts to wipe away the blood with a cloth dampened by the water bottle, he mutters incoherently to himself as he works.

"She's not an assistant," Caleb says. "She's a department head, and one of the more impressive ones at that."

"You know her?"

He shrugs. "Not really. She was supposed to teach part of my comprehensive sciences class during initiation, but, uh, something came up. Guess we know what now."

"How did you get here anyways, Caleb?" I ask. "Last time I saw you, you were kind of…"

He nods apologetically. "I know. I'm sorry. But I...things got weirder, Beatrice. There were Dauntless in and out of the complex every day, the department heads got all really on edge all the time…" He looks like he wants to say more, but can't. He shakes his head. "I...I left last night after, um, after the after-party. I guess I'm factionless now." He looks away from me, tears in his eyes again.

"No, you aren't," my father says, pausing in his work to put his hand on Caleb's arm. "You're with us now." Then he turns back to my arm and beckons for something. "Antiseptic." Caleb hands it to him.

"Have you ever actually stitched a bullet wound?" I ask with a nervous chuckle.

He shrugs. "The things I know might surprise you."

That seems to be the theme of the day, I guess I don't really know anything about my father either. Is he a transfer too?

"I'm not going to lie," he says, "this isn't going to feel great."

I want to say something witty, something that would make my friends laugh too like '_I've had worse_' or even just '_Oh really_?' But I can't, I nod instead and close my eyes. I feel the needle puncture my skin, the burn spreading from my shoulder to my fingertips. I clench my jaw and screw my eyes shut tighter.

"Someone talk," I say through gritted teeth. "I can't stand this."

Maybe this is the least painful thing I've faced all day, but my father's right; this doesn't feel great.

"Um…" Caleb trails off.

"What did you do in initiation, Caleb?!" I try not to sound too rough but the needle going in and out and the thread pulling through my skin makes me want to scream.

"Uh...I don't know. Classes, lots of them," he sounds a little frantic. "I made some friends, um; Blake, Adrianne, and Farah. They were all transfers too. Um, Blake and I were roommates so that was pretty cool. We did a bunch of different stuff; all - or, um, almost all - of the department heads taught us...I don't know Tris, what did you do in Dauntless?"

The urge to blurt out that I'm dating my ex-instructor bubbles up inside of me. But I force it down because it probably wouldn't be the best thing to say in front of my dad and brother, they worry enough as things are.

But I don't have to think of a response because my father cuts the thread. "And we're patched - er, done."

Caleb gives him a quizzical glance that I don't understand. Then he hands him a roll of bandage that he wraps over my arm. Caleb pulls off one of his two shirts and hands it to me. My father guides my arms through the sleeves and helps me pull it over my head like I'm a toddler again.

We're quiet for a minute, then I hear muttering come from behind the palettes. A minute later, a woman with brown skin and curly dark brown hair helps my mother limp over to us. Her gray dress is stained with blood, fresh and dry. My mother is pale and sweat shines on her brow, but she smiles when she sees us. My father practically jumps to his feet and crosses the room to meet her. He starts to pick her up, but Maria swats at his arm.

"Jostling her is bad for the sutures," she hisses. "Shouldn't you know this?"

He nods sheepishly and wraps her other arm over his shoulders. She smiles at him and he returns it, putting his arm around her waist and pulling her a little closer. I feel the urge to look away; my parents barely held hands in front of us, seeing them like this is...strange. My father helps her sit down next to me on the crate and she gives me a very soft, reassuring smile then pats my back.

"How are you, Sweetheart? Did your father patch you up?"

I nod and croak out, "I'm fine."

Then Caleb laughs, it's a hysterical but undeniably happy sound. He throws his head back and then buries his face in his hands, unable to contain his giggles. All three of us give him a quizzical look and it takes him at least another minute to calm down enough to speak. I haven't heard his laugh in so long that the sound almost makes me want to cry. In the chaos of initiation it was almost easy to forget about how much I missed him. We may not have always been close, but he'll always be my brother and I love him.

"What's so funny?" I ask.

"I just…I never thought we would see each other again." He scrubs his hands over his face and the scrapes his hair back. He smiles even as tears prick his eyes.

My mother opens her arms to him, and then loops one behind me as well. My father leans in as well and we all hug for the first time in months.

Marcus stands, clearing his throat and an image of him with a belt flashes behind my eyes, My whole body tenses at once and I can't look him in the eyes.

"We're only safe here for so long," he says. "We have to find somewhere else to take refuge and I don't think hiding among the factionless is a very good idea. Our best option is Amity, we go to them and hope they take us in. Do you know anything about the Dauntless strategy, Beatrice? Will they stop fighting at night?"

"Even if they do, that's a long way away from now," my mother says.

"It's also not a Dauntless strategy," I interject. "This whole thing is masterminded by the Erudite. And it's not like they're giving orders."

"That's ridiculous," Marcus says with a little scoff. "I don't especially like Jeanine, but-"

"I told you, I saw her and Carolina," I cut him off. "They were the ones that tried to have me killed." I leave out all the stuff about Tobias and everything else even though part of me burns to just tell them everything to my family can comfort me.

"What did you mean they're not giving orders?" my father changes the subject and part of me breathes a sigh of relief.

"I mean that ninety-nine percent of the Dauntless are sleepwalking right now. They're in a simulation and they don't know what they're doing. The only reason I'm not just like them is that I'm…" I hesitate on the word, knowing how dangerous it is. I look around at all the people listening in on our conversation, not even bothering to pretend like they're not. "It doesn't affect me."

"So they don't know they're killing people right now?" My father asks, his eyebrows practically in his hairline.

"No."

"How awful," my mother says, looking down. I realize after a moment that she's looking at the gun that lays forgotten on the floor. I think of Will, he had no control over what he was doing and I shot him anyways. My mother narrows her eyes and shakes her head, I can't tell if it's directed at me or not.

"We have to stop it," I say. "We have to help them."

"I beg your pardon?" Marcus says.

"If we wake the Dauntless up, they will probably revolt when they realize what's going on," I explain. "The Erudite won't have an army. The Abnegation will stop dying. This will be over."

"Or it will spark a war," Marcus protests. His tone shifts, sympathetic in a fake sort of way. "What's happening is awful, but can you imagine what will happen when the Dauntless realize who did this to them. They'll want revenge."

"And they can have it," I say. "Jeanine and Carolina deserve what happens to them."

My father bites his lip and looks away, Caleb looks away as well.

"It won't be easy to stop them either," my father adds, still not quite looking at us. "Even without the Dauntless helping them, the Erudite will find another way to…"

"And if we all die in the process, none of this will matter," Caleb says.

"We have to try," I exclaim. "We find the computers that control the simulation, destroy them. Wipe the whole program." Only my mother seems to be behind me. Marcus, Caleb, and my father don't seem at all convinced that this will work.

"Easier said than done," Caleb continues to argue. "Those computers could be anywhere. We can't exactly just show up in the Erudite sector and start poking around."

"And the people who did this aren't stupid," my father adds. "Even if we do find the control room - and that's a big 'if' - it will be heavily guarded, and that's not even taking into account the actual programs defenses, the redundancies, the backups on other machines...If this has been coming together for as long as I can guess, we're not just going to be able to bash one computer to pieces and call it a day."

I frown, thinking back to what I know. Jeanine had been telling Alexi that something needed to be defended, something important, something that Max got wrong. '_Put them back on the train_,' she said. And when the Dauntless were being armed for this attack, they did it in Neo Dauntless rather than the regular Pit. When Ryan and Eric started fighting the brownhaired woman with the glasses left. She was going somewhere, '_I'm going back to the control room. Call me when you're going to do something besides stand around and argue._' and then she'd walked up the stairs down the hallway Tobias and I had gone down before when he took me to spy on the Erudite.

The 'control room', where they'd been setting up computers, servers the size of refrigerators, and boxes upon boxes of god knows what.

"It's in the Dauntless compound," I say. "A renovated part that's never been used for anything. I've been there before, I can take you back."

I faintly remember that as of last night, I became a Dauntless. On paper at least, I'll never really be Dauntless the way I'm supposed to. I'm not Abnegation either. I'm Divergent.

"Are you sure?" my father asks.

I nod. "Very."

"But the backups-" Caleb protests.

"Can be taken out remotely with the right credentials," my father says. "Have anyone in mind, son?"

He taps his chin in thought, staring up at the ceiling. His eyes flicker back and forth as he mentally runs down a list of important people in Erudite.

"I think Jeanine's assistant was headed back there," I say. "There was, um, some problem. Would she work?"  
Caleb thinks about that for a long, long time. Then he says, "Maybe? She does do a lot of work all over the place, I see no reason why Jeanine wouldn't give her an administrator's code."

"And what if she's not there?" Marcus says, his face pinched into a frown. "I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say that Jeanine would let everyone in that control room die than lose the whole program and all of her hard work."

"I guess we'll figure it out," I say.

He scoffs. "Can't say I love those odds."

"Well, it's all we've got," my mother says, frowning at him. "Now, we can either sit around and argue while innocent people die or we can take a chance. And if we die...well then it's a good death."

We're all silent, staring at her. Caleb looks terrified and unsure, I know he still doubts the quality of our plan. My father seems unconvinced as well, but he's already made his decision I think. Marcus holds her gaze for another minute and then sighs.

"I guess you're right. We'll have to decide who goes and who continues on to Amity."

"We'll need a small group," my mother says. "Five or six at the most. Any more and we run the risk of getting caught."

"What do you need, Beatrice?" my father asks. He looks at me like I'm his equal, talks to me like I'm his equal. He's either accepted that I'm an adult now or no longer thinks of me as his daughter. I think the latter is more likely.

I look around at the other Abnegation, they look to me; like I'm their only hope of making it out of this.

I take a deep breath. "Anyone who will fire a gun and isn't afraid of heights."


	44. Chapter 44: The Great Dauntless Takeover

I didn't really get to decide who came with me. Caleb was the obvious choice because he knows the most about Erudite and their plans, Marcus insisted that he go despite my protests, and my father is apparently good with computers - so says my mother, who shooed him off and told him to go watch after Caleb and I while Maria helped her limp out the back of the warehouse.

It's not exactly the most capable team I could ever ask for, but I think most of the alternatives available to me are much worse.

Erudite and Dauntless forces are concentrated mostly in the Abnegation sector, so the father we run away from there the less likely we are to encounter difficulty. Caleb says not to get too close to Erudite or City Center, because there we'll probably be spotted if not by the security cameras then just regular people.

We walk deeper into factionless territory, everything oddly quiet due to the massacre going on a few blocks down. We find a safe - relatively speaking - place next to the tracks to wait for the train and I turn to Caleb.

"What time is it?"

He looks down at his watch. "Six thirty-seven."

"Should be here soon," I say.

He nods. "Will it stop?"

"Nope. It won't be going full speed though; we'll run next to it, I'll open the door, and then you'll all jump on after me."

"Oh. Right, okay. Yep, totally normal." He chuckles. "Just a...moving train that might kill us before Erudite can get anywhere near us. Of course, this sound like a _great_ idea."

"Son." My father glances at him. "Hundreds of Dauntless jump on and off every day and survive just fine."

"But they're trained - no pun intended - and-"

"We weren't," I interrupt him. "Jumping on the train was our first test after leaving the ceremony. I guess in a way you're all kind of experiencing what I went through my first day."

Marcus and my father pull a face. Caleb whispers, "Yikes."

I decide not to tell them about jumping from the train to the building, and then off the building. I don't want them to insist we find another way in.

I look over my shoulder and see the glow of the headlight in the distance. I start to bounce on the balls of my feet and when it's close enough to feel the ground vibrate I break into a run. I can hear the others behind me and I pick up speed, jumping and grabbing the handle. I slam my hand on the button that opens the door and extend my hand to the others, helping each of them on the train even though I would much rather leave Marcus on the tracks.

I swing inside after they all move back, but stick by the door and watch the city pass. The farther we get from the Abnegation sector, the more things almost seem at peace. Just your average Saturday morning. I should be sleeping in, and then choosing my job and where I'll lie later today. My friends and I would all finish packing when we woke up, get breakfast together. Today was supposed to be the first day of our lives. Instead Will is dead, Mimi is nowhere to be found, and Christina is out there somewhere killing innocent Abnegation with no idea she's doing it.

"I assume you now regret choosing Dauntless?" Marcus interrupts my thoughts and I have to fight the urge to glare at him. I'm almost surprised it wasn't my father who asked that question.

Instead, I shake my head.

"Not even after your faction leaders joined a plot to overthrow the government?" he spits.

I shrug. "There were things I had to learn there that I couldn't learn in Abnegation, or anywhere else for that matter."

"How to be brave?" my father says quietly.

"How to be selfless," I reply. "Often they're the same thing."

"Is that why you got Abnegation's symbol tattooed on your shoulder?" Caleb asks. When he does, I'm almost sure that I see my father crack a smile for a second.

A faint smile crosses my face and I nod. "And Dauntless on the other."

And then we're silent for the rest of the ride.

The Pyre reflects the morning sun right back into my eyes as I stand holding the side of the door. We're getting close the building where I first jumped off. I guess things really have come full circle.

"When I tell you to jump," I say, "jump as far as you can."

"Jump?!" Caleb repeats, incredulous. "We're seven stories up, Beatrice!"

"Onto a roof," I add, though it assures him none. "That's why it's a test of bravery."

"…difference between bravery and idiocy," he mutters, turning away and scraping his hair back.

Half of bravery is perspective, I think. The first time I made this jump it was one of the hardest things I've ever done. But since then I've had worse, I've done things that the girl who grew up in Abnegation, Beatrice, would find impossible. But none of it compares to what I'm about to do, all the training in the world couldn't have prepared me for this.

I guess it helps though.

"Dad, you go," I say, stepping away from the door. "I would take a running start." If he and Marcus go first, I can time it so that they have to jump the shortest distance. More than a hundred initiates made it ten weeks ago, I think four of us can make it now.

At least I hope we can.

The tracks start to curve and when they line up with the edge of the roof I shout, "Go!"

My father pushes off the wall and leaps onto the roof, when he disappears I shove Marcus forward and shout for him to jump too.

My father lands so close to the edge that it would have made me scream if my throat hadn't closed up. He sits down on the gravel and I nudge Caleb in front of me. My father beckons for him too. He jumps without me having to tell him when and lands hard on the gravel. I back up to the wall and give myself a running start before throwing myself from the car as well just as it reaches the edge of the roof. The air rushes around me and I'm weightless for a moment, then I slam into the hard cement and gravel on the roof. My arm throbs from the impact and I let out a groan. Still, weirdly enough it makes me almost nostalgic.

Caleb and my father stand at the edge of the roof holding on to Marcus' arms. He didn't quite make it, but he hasn't fallen yet either. He got luckier than that girl that died on the first day, Rita's sister. Knowing what I do about him, I can't help but think he doesn't deserve it.

Something vicious inside me chants, _Fall, fall, fall_.

But he doesn't. Caleb and my father manage to pull him over the ledge as I walk over to them. I don't know how I'll get them to go along with this next part. Asking people to jump on and off of a train is one thing, but a roof?

I guess we are already up here.

"This next part is why I asked about the fear of heights," I say, walking over to the edge of the roof with them following me.

"Oh? I thought that was because we were jumping from a moving train onto a roof seven stories in the air," Caleb interjects, rolling his eyes. I'm taken aback, I've never quite heard him speak like that before. I guess Erudite changed him even more than I thought.

I look over my shoulder at the hole in the ground far below. "Well, that too but, um, don't think too much about it. Just jump." They eye me with confusion, not having figured out what I mean. "There's a net at the bottom."

"Bottom of what?" Caleb barely gets the sentence out before I lean backward and plummet toward the ground below. It occurs to me too late that I probably should have stayed up there to tell them when to jump so they don't land on each other.

Oops.

I relax my muscles seconds before slamming into the net. It feels like a slab of cement hitting my arm anyways and I have to bite down on my tongue to keep myself from screaming.

I grit my teeth and roll to the edge, grabbing the pole that supports the net, and swing my leg over the side. I drag myself onto the platform with tears in blurring my vision.

Caleb yelps as he hits the net and then lays there for a second. I stand with some difficulty and wave with my good arm to get his attention.

"Caleb," I hiss. "Over here."

Breathing heavily, he scrambles over to me and pulls himself onto the platform. He stares at me with wide eyes.

"How...how many times have you done that?"

"Twice now."

He shakes his head, scraping his hands through his hair again.

When my father hits the net, Caleb extends his hand to help him onto the platform with us. He and I descend the stairs and then he leans over the railing and vomits. Above us, I hear Marcus hit the net with a groan. When I look back, he stands up on the platform white as a sheet, but unharmed.

I strain to hear even the slightest sound, but everything is dark and quiet. Jeanine made it sound like there was no one left in the compound except the soldiers she sent back to guard the control room. I really, really hope I'm right about that.

"I'll never understand how Azalea did any of this," my father mutters to Marcus.

"I never understood much of anything she did," he mutters back. "How is this any different?" Then he looks at me. "So this is the Dauntless compound."

"Yeah? And?"

"And I never thought I would get to see it," he replies, his hand skimming a wall. "No need to be so defensive, Beatrice."

I don't think I noticed how cold his eyes are before now.

"Beatrice," my father says, not quite looking at me but looking around in wonder, "do you have a plan?"

"Yes," I reply, though I'm not really sure when I came up with it or how good it is, I have a plan. At least I can count on a few things; there aren't many Dauntless in the compound, the Dauntless aren't known for their subtlety, and I'll do anything to stop them.

We start walking down a hallway, start being the operative word because after a few seconds I glance behind me and my father is frozen in place; his head craned back around to look down another hallway.

"Dad?" I say. "Did you hear something?"

He seems surprised by my voice, then shakes his head a little too vigorously. "Nope. Let's keep going." He walks past me and we continue down the hallway.

We start walking down the hallway that leads to the Pit but the moment I step into one of the few lights that is on I hear a gunshot and I drop to the ground, scrambling back into the shadows.

"Everyone okay?" I ask.

"Yes," my father whispers back.

"Good. Stay here."

"Whoever's there," a voice shouts, "surrender your weapons and put your hands up!"

I press my back to the wall and shuffle along it, staying just out of the light. I see a silhouette of a guard pacing back and forth in front of the hallway. I can't win a fight, not with my arm the way it is. But if I move fast enough, I won't have to. Staying light on my feet, I bound toward the guard and kick the back of his knees. He lurches forward but regains his balance, turning around but I slam the butt of my gun into his arm to keep him from lifting his own gun. He grunts in pain and I go for his hands. My legs aren't long enough to kick the gun from his hands, but hitting his fingers with my gun does the trick. He drops it and I punt it across the concrete floor, then level my gun with his chest.

"Against the wall!" I command.

He steps back into the light, his hands raised in surrender and suddenly I recognize him. Peter is giving me a very unimpressed look, then smirks and does jazz hands.

I shoot the stone wall next to his head and snap, "Against the wall!"

He rolls his eyes and steps back.

"How are you awake?!" I demand.

"Because I'm smarter than you," he says with an arrogant smirk.

I scowl and raise my gun again.

"Calm down." He rolls his eyes again. "Jeez, Stiff, you've really got a temper."

"You're Divergent," I say, narrowing my eyes.

"Okay, I don't know what that is and honestly I don't really care. The Dauntless leaders evaluated my records or something and removed me from the simulation. I don't know."

"Because they figured out that you already have murderous tendencies and wouldn't mind killing a few hundred people while conscious," I say. "Makes sense."

"I'm not murderous!" he exclaims, seeming genuinely insulted.

"I never knew a Candor who was such a liar." I jab the gun into his chest.

"I'm not Candor, first of all-"

"Take me to the control room," I cut him off.

He looks at me like I'm crazy. "No. Do I look like I have a death wish to you?"

"I think I am much more imminent threat than Jeanine." I prod him with the gun again.

He shakes his head. "You're not gonna shoot me."

"Why do people keep saying that?!" I take my gun away from his chest and shoot him the arm. He screams and screws his eyes shut. Blood spurts from the wound and he presses his hand over it, muffling another scream by pressing his lips together. He tilts his head back and I see tears prick his eyes."

"The control room," I say, keeping my tone even and cold. "Now."

He looks back at me, hate and just the slightest trace of fear in his eyes.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" he says, his voice cracking. "Yeah, and I'm the murderous one!"

"I'll give you one more chance to tell me before I shoot you somewhere worse."

He brings his good arm up and wipes his eyes. He's silent for a minute, his lower lip quivers. Finally, he whispers, "They're listening." He nods his head up toward a camera in a corner. "If you want my help, you have to take me with you."

"What?" I furrow my brow.

"Take me with you." He wipes his eye with his shoulder. "Least you could do for fucking shooting me."

"You want me to take you," I say, "the person who tried to kill me…with me?"

"Yep. Look, I get that you don't like me much, honestly I don't really like you either-"

"Ha! That's an understatement."

He narrows his eyes at me. "_But_ you and I both know that you need what I know and I need to avoid being gutted by Mimi's crazy mom. So I think it would be best for both of us if we just set aside our differences and worked together for the time being."

I don't want to, I should really just shoot him and get him out of my hair for good. But every second I waste standing here staring at him, another Abnegation dies at the hands of a brain-dead Dauntless. I don't actually have a choice, do I?

"Fine," I spit. "You can come with us."

"Us?" He raises his eyebrow.

Behind me, I hear footsteps. I keep the gun level and look back to see the other three coming out from behind the corner. My father takes off his gray jacket and presses the fabric to Peter's bleeding arm. He winces but gives him a grateful smile.

"Did you really need to shoot him?" he asks. I wonder how he would feel knowing that my mother and I shot at least a dozen people on our way to him, that I killed my best friend to save us both.

I can't bring myself to answer.

"Sometimes pain is necessary for the greater good," Marcus says, his voice strangely calm for the situation that we're in. All I can imagine is him standing over Tobias with a belt in his hand. I shudder, wondering if he really believes that.

"Let's go," I say. "Lead the way, Peter."

"You want to go now?" Caleb says. "Are you insane? Look at him."

"Did I shoot him in the leg?" I retort. "No. Let's go."

He won't stop looking at me like I'm turning into some kind of monster so I just turn away from him completely. Peter walks in front of me, his good arm linked with Caleb's.

"Under the Chasm," he says, his voice strained. "There's a whole other compound."

He leads us down the hallway Tobias took me down a few weeks ago, the one I walked down this morning. I keep looking around for signs of other people, but there's no one. It makes me shiver, reminds me of the emptiness in the other compound when that sort of silence shouldn't exist in Dauntless.

"Did Dauntless really convince you that it's just okay to shoot someone?" my father asks, his voice just above a whisper as he falls in step with me. I'm tempted to tell him about mom, but I decide not to. I wonder about my other friends, the ones that might still be alive; what about Tori? Christina? Mimi?

"Now isn't the time to debate ethics," I say.

"Now is the perfect time," he says. "If not then you'll have the opportunity to shoot someone again, kill them this time and if you don't realize-"

"Realize what?" I cut him off. "That every second I waste means another Abnegation dead and another Dauntless made into a murderer? I've realized that. Now it's your turn."

He frowns. "There are lines, Beatrice, between right and wrong; lines we aren't supposed to just cross back and forth."

"And what makes you so sure you know where those lines are?"

"Please stop fighting." Caleb looks back at us over his shoulder. "We have more pressing matters."

My cheeks burn and my father looks stunned and a little offended, but he brushes it off and seems to zone out. He stares ahead with a vacant look in his eyes as we travel farther and farther down. We pass underneath the Chasm and Caleb almost loses his balance tilting his head back to look at the water rushing above us. The stone underneath our feet turn alabaster rather than concrete.

The hallway ends and I press against the wall, motioning for the others to do the same then peek around the corner. There are two guards circling each level of the Pit in Neo Dauntless, the ones on the top passing by us every two minutes or so.

"The room is down a hallway on level eight," Peter whispers. "That's two below us."

I nod, then look back at my father. "There are people out there who will kill me and all of you if they see us. Should we let them?"

He presses his lips together, seeming conflicted. Then he mutters to himself, "I can't believe I'm doing this." He me in the eyes. "Let's go."

I watch the silhouettes move back and forth for another minute, when they're the farthest away I motion for us all to sneak out. We creep toward the steps as quickly as we can, the guards already coming back around. I motion for them all to continue past me, raising my gun so that when they see us it will be the last thing they see.

I fire as the guard approaches but miss. The others, somewhere behind me scuffle and then hit the ground I assume. His shorts spark against the stone around me as I duck. I lean heavily against the metal railing, crouched and fire back. He's running toward me now, but one of my shots strikes him in the arm and he drops his gun, which skids across the floor and then under the railing. My heart pounding, I fling my arm out and fire three times as a searing pain runs up and down my arm. Somehow, by some miracle, one of the bullets hits the guard. He falls and doesn't get up but I am a little preoccupied as tears run uncontrollably from my eyes. I'm sure that I just ripped my stitches.

The second guard comes running and I'm staring down the black barrel of his gun, sure that I'm about to die. But then he juts his chin toward the others and mouth, '_Go_.'

He must be Divergent.

I get up off the ground and turn back toward the others. The last I see of the guard, he walks back into the tunnel we came out of and disappears.

"Fucking karma, Stiff," Peter says when I meet them on the steps. Marcus and my father cut their eyes at him, but Caleb doesn't react at all.

"Shut up, Peter," I hiss.

We keep walking until we reach the eighth floor, then sneak around to the hallway we need by ducking into other hallways as guards pass. I can feel blood running down my arm again and I have to wipe my slick hand on my pants every minute or so.

When we go down the hallway, maybe it's just the blood loss but I have a hard time remembering which ways to turn. Peter has to smugly correct me more than once and it makes me want to shoot him again.

We're about to walk down another corner, but I see a guard standing against the wall and snag Caleb's collar with my good hand. He quietly chokes and stumbles back.

"I think you guys should stay here," I whisper. "Peter's just going to slow us down, and someone's got to watch him."

Peter pulls a face but doesn't protest.

I know that if I go down that hallway I might never come back. This is a suicide mission. I always figured that suicide missions were harder then this.

"I can't stay here while you risk your life," Caleb says.

"I need you to."

Peter unwraps his arm from Caleb and sinks down to sit against the wall, he's pale and the sweat on his face glistens in the blue light. I almost feel bad for him, but then I remember Edward, and the itch of fabric over my eyes as my attackers blindfolded me, and my sympathy is lost to hatred. Eventually, Caleb nods and sits down next to Peter, his gun resting against his knees.

"Beatrice," my father mutters.

"Mom needs you," I say before he can continue.

"You're my daughter," he says. "You need me. And like you said, there's not a second to waste."

I'm not going to talk him out of this. I've convinced him and now he's convinced that he has to help me, protect me. I don't know whether or not I should be happy about that. I nod stiffly and ignore the tremble in my hands.

We stare at each other for another second and then he crushes me in a hug. I want to collapse and cry suddenly; I'm tired, I'm scared, and I'm about to die and take my father with me. But I don't, I let him go and we walk out of the hallway together, our guns raised. The first guard barely has a second to react before his blood splatters against the alabaster walls. Suddenly we're running, my father is somewhere behind me and the guards spaced out along the walls are dropping like flies. I count the doors as I go, then skid to a stop just before the end of the hallway. It's not ajar this time, there's no guarantee that it's even unlocked. That seems to be the theme here; no guarantee that the door will be unlocked, no guarantee that Alexi will be there to stop the sim, no guarantee that we'll even survive.

I look behind me for my dad and find him leaning against the door. He's white as a sheet and clutching his arm just above his elbow. Blood flows from in between his fingers and drips onto the floor.

"Oh my god, how are you still standing," he says through clenched teeth, jerking his chin in the direction of my wounded arm.

I shrug with my good arm. "Go back to the others. I'll take care of things."

"No-"

"No," I repeat, interrupting him. "I can handle myself."

He cracks a smile that in his pain looks more like grimace. "You sound just like your mother." Then he turns away and starts walking down the hallway.

I swallow, listening to his footsteps fade away and then turn back to the door. After taking a moment to steel myself, I grab the knob and twist it. The door opens, to my surprise, and the room in front of me. Lucky, I guess. But I can hear voices not far from me and I know I'm not about to be lucky for long. I leave the door open and creep in. The other side of the room, where Tobias and I spied on Mimi's brother a few weeks back has been completely separated from us by tall servers. There are even more cables running across the floor than before and I can't help but wonder if this would all be over if I just tripped over one.

Or it might cause something terrible, so I try my best to avoid getting anywhere near them.

My heart pounds so loud that I feel like it's going to give me away and suddenly I regret insisting that I do this alone. My adrenaline rush from earlier begins to fade and I want to collapse again. I don't know how long it's been since I woke up not a zombie; long enough for Tobias to be experimented on and murdered, long enough for me to kill Will, long enough for Christina and Mimi to kill at least one person each, too long. My head pounds and I want to throw up. Whatever I meet on the other side of that wall of servers won't be friendly. If I'm going to die, at least I died trying to do the right thing. At least Will and Tobias will be in whatever comes next with me. I'll have to tell them both I'm sorry, I failed them.

But I haven't failed yet. Now, I have to be brave.


	45. Chapter 45: See Me

I couldn't even begin to guess what breaking even one of these servers might do. Caleb kept going on about backups and redundancies and I don't have a clue what he was talking about. Was it this? My father is supposed to be good with computers, he could probably explain this. But my father is currently getting patched up by Caleb because I let him follow me into what could have killed us both.

The coward in me wants to turn and run back to the others, beg them to go with me so that I don't have to face this alone. But I can't. I'm not going to ask them to follow me to their deaths, especially because I know that everyone but Peter would do it.

I turn a corner and the rest of the room is revealed. It's huge, especially considering there's only about a dozen people occupying it, including the guards. The woman I saw walk up this way is nowhere in sight and neither is Jeanine's redheaded assistant, Alexi. Most of the people in the room are Erudite and they're all gathered on the far side of the room where about a dozen screens and computers have been set up. In the center of it all are Jeanine and Carolina themselves. They stand less than an inch apart, their backs to me watching something on the center screen. They lean over and mutter to each other every few seconds and I want so badly to just fire on them from here, end all of this for good.

I would, but what's on the other side of the room makes me forget all of that. Strapped into a chair very much like the one I sat in to take my Aptitude Test. There are black bands locking his wrists to the armrests and legs to the footrest. He stares blankly ahead, a screen just above him showing a diagram of his brain and a cart full of scary looking medical tools sits next to him.

I glance back at the Erudite and make sure that none of them are looking this way before moving toward Tobias.

"Hey," I whisper to him, drawing a knife from my pocket and beginning to cut through the bindings around his legs. He doesn't respond or even look at me. When I'm done with his legs I move to his wrist, cutting through one band and then the other. The moment all of his limbs are free, he grabs my wrist hard enough to hurt and in my surprise I drop the knife to the floor with a clatter. He shoves me away and I stumble, hitting a cement pillar and groaning as shocks of pain are sent through my arm. He gets up from the chair and comes toward me. I look back toward the Erudite only to find that they've all turned but don't get closer. I know what they're doing, they did something to him and now they're testing it to see if it works. They want him to kill me.

"Tobias," I say. "It's me, Beatrice. You're in a sim."

He grabs me, holding me against the pillar and my instinct to struggle fights against how much I don't want to hurt him.

"He can't hear you," Jeanine says, her and her entourage save for a few starting to approach. Carolina wears an unsettlingly bright smile to match her unsettlingly bright eyes. This better than killing us for her, better to watch us kill each other instead. I remember what Peter said about her being crazy and suddenly I can believe it. If Jeanine is the machine, then she is the maniac.

"Amazing isn't it," she continues. "Everything we think makes up a person – thoughts, feelings, history – all wiped away by chemistry." She doesn't smile, but her smugness shows in her voice.

"Tobias," I call to him.

"He's gone," Carolina says, her voice lilting like she's about to laugh. "And we're all better off for it."

"Better off?!" I spit. "How are we better off?"

"Divergence threatens the system," Jeanine says, "the one that's kept things in order for five hundred years. We can't have that. The beauty of the faction system is that it takes the guess work out of human nature. There are certain inferences that can be made about the members of every faction; vast as people can be, at their core they're remarkably simple."

"You mean after you're done butchering and brainwashing them?!" I snarl. "Yeah, I'll bet they are pretty simple to you."

Jeanine deadpans. "Think what you want, it makes me no less right." She turns away and so does Carolina. The small crowd parts for them and then follows until the only one that remains is Gwendolyn. She eyes us with cold amusement, her black eyes devoid of feeling. I expect her to have some final words for us, a clever quip about her boss' triumph, but she just looks down the tablet in her hand and begins to do something.

"Tobias," I say softly, "it's me."

I hear what almost sounds like a chuckle from Gwendolyn.

"It's me," I repeat. I know that I can snap him out of this; he and I are stronger than any simulation Jeanine can concoct.

Then his hands shift and wrap around my throat. He lifts me off the ground and I kick at the air, trying to reach him. I hit the inside of his elbow in an attempt to get him to loosen his grip, but it only gets tighter. I swing my legs violently, hitting his chest as I claw at his hands and wrists. My lungs scream for air and my hits turn to panicked thrashing. I manage to kick him in the stomach and he throws me to the ground. I try to scramble away but he grabs me by my bad arm, eliciting a scream from me, and then half tosses me into the cart of medical supplies.

"Tobias, it's me!" I cry.

I see Gwendolyn out of the corner of my eye sidestep an airborn syringe and continue with her tablet. I know that if I can get to her then I can shut down the simulation but I don't get a chance to think about how I might do that because I'm dodging and blocking punches as best I can. He hits harder than Peter, he hits harder than anyone I've ever fought against. He knocks me to the ground again. I scramble to my feet before he can pin me and rather than fight back I lunge at Gwendolyn before he can grab me. I have my hands outstretched for her tablet but I don't get to it because she clutches it to her chest as something hard strikes my side and it knocks me to the ground. I realize after a second that that was her boot. She looks down at me and I can't tell if she's impressed by my nerve or insulted by it.

"Are you serious?" she says in a deadpan voice, then turns away and goes back to her tablet.

Tobias is on me in seconds, it doesn't matter how many times his fist misses me and hits the stone he still shows no signs of pain. I somehow manage to wriggle away from him, hitting and kicking just to get him away from me no matter how ineffective it is.

"Tobias, stop!" I shout as I throw a punch.

He catches my arm and pins it behind my back, then knees me in the stomach. I groan and he throws me to the ground. I'm not sure how much longer I can fight him. I get up and rush at his midsection but when I wrap my arms around his waist he just throws me off. I scramble backward as he comes toward me. Finally, knowing that I have no other options, I draw my gun and point it at him.

"Stop," I say again.

He does stop, unfortunately I also find about half a dozen other guns pointed at me. Jeanine and Carolina turn back to us. Jeanine looks ready to kill us both right this second and so do all the guards who have their guns on me. Ironically though, Carolina and Gwendolyn don't; they seem content to sit back and watch how this plays out.

"Tobias, please." I keep the gun aimed up at him, knowing that even if I could shoot him the guards would shoot me the second I do. "Look at me"

But I can't do it. I can't shoot him.

I turn the gun on myself, pressing the barrel to my forehead. Tobias kneels down and puts his finger on the trigger, pressing it further into my head.

"Look at me," I whisper. "Tell me what you see."

"Dr. Matthews–" Gwendolyn starts.

"It's okay I love you. It's okay," I keep whispering to him. "Just tell me what you see."

"Kill them, obviously," Carolina preempts her question.

"Tobias, look at me. Look at me. What do you see?"

I can feel him shaking, something in his eyes changes as he stares at me. I touch his cheek, my eyes watering. He blinks slowly, like he's just waking up.

""I…" he softly says. "I...I see you." He stares into my eyes and suddenly his hands are shaking so hard he can't press the gun against my head properly. "Tris…"

"I love you," I whisper back.

"Ready?" I wonder how he'll get his hands to stop shaking long enough to shoot properly.

I nod. "Go."

He jumps to his feet and shoots two guards before they can react. The other three miss spectacularly and then they're dead. Gwendolyn retrieves a gun on her own and shoots him in the arm. He cries out in pain and drops the gun as she turns and runs into the lighter part of the room.

"Finish it," I hear Jeanine command. "Kill them all now."

Tobias kicks the guard that comes at him in the chest and I go for the gun only for another guard to grab me.

"Forget the gun," he yells, nodding toward Jeanine.

I fend off the guard and grab my forgotten knife off the floor instead. We fight our way through to the Erudite who are working frantically to finish this massacre. Tobias rushes Gwendolyn, ducking her shots and picking her up by her tiny waist. Her tablet falls from her hands and cracks on the tile. He throws her backward into a metal shelf holding computer chips in glass cases. Things on the shelf fall and it rocks violently back and forth as she hits the ground, then tips forward as the tries to scramble away, the metal frame falling on her and the glass shelves and chips shattering as she screams. It's an earsplitting sound that I wouldn't expect out of someone like her. Her gun skitters across the floor, only just out of her reach. She tries to drag herself forward but groans in pain again at the action. I notice tears well in the corners of her narrow eyes as she gasps for breaths after having the wind knocked out of her.

Tobias freezes dead with wide eyes, suddenly far away from what's going on right now. His chest heaves and he takes a shaky step back, staring at Gwendolyn like he's suddenly terrified of her.

He's so lost in thought he doesn't notice who's coming up behind him until his good arm is twisted behind him and there's a knife at his throat.

"Not one more step." Carolina, stronger than she looks apparently, easily keeps Tobias at her mercy with a wicked smile spread across her face. "Unless, of course, you want him to die."

Jeanine looks awfully smug as she walks to the main terminal to keep working. Suddenly I remember what Peter said about Carolina gutting him, apparently that wasn't an exaggeration. Tobias struggles against her but she presses her blade in just enough to draw blood. He goes still, staring at me with wide eyes.

"We should have killed you both when we had the chance," she hisses, her expression dark and furious. Then it lightens, that unsettling smile curling back onto her face. "But I guess if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself." Then she takes the knife from his throat and stabs it in between his ribs. He groans in pain and doubles over. I scream for him but in that moment he uses the arm he was shot in to grab Carolina's wrist, tearing the knife out of him. He holds her hand out, away from him as she struggles. But her grip on his arm has loosened enough for him to be able to pull out of her grip, turning on her. He keeps a tight grip on her wrist to keep her from stabbing him again and punches her square in the jaw. Her head jerks back and she goes limp, he drops her and her head slams against the metal terminal on the way down with a nauseating crack. Jeanine freezes, looking over her shoulder at Carolina's limp body. Tobias doubles over, pressing his hand over his stab wound as the dark patch in his shirt grows larger and larger.

I'm about to lunge at Jeanine, but the sound of another door opening catches my attention and I freeze. Standing in the doorway, shocked, horrified, and fully awake is Mimi. She looks from me, to Jeanine, to Tobias, to her mother.

It's hard to tell who she's talking to when she says, "What the _fuck_ have you done?"


	46. Chapter 46: The Right Thing To Do

**Mimi**

"_What the /fuck/ have you done?"_

I stare at the scene in front of me with nothing short of pure and unadulterated shock. My mother lays in a crumpled heap on the floor, blood trickling from her head and staining her hair. Four is standing over her, clutching his side as blood runs from his other arm. He's breathing heavily, leaning one hand on the computer terminal, seemingly struggling to keep his eyes open.

"Mimette," Jeanine addresses me, her tone sickly sweet.

I look back at Tris, who holds a bloody knife in her hand. I can't keep my eyes off of it, even when Jeanine calls to me again.

"Mimi," Tris' voice cuts through my thoughts. "This...It's not what you think."

I take a step back, shaking my head. "I don't know what I think."

Other bodies litter the floor, none that I recognize but at least half a dozen. I start to hyperventilate, every part of me screaming to turn and run.

"Mimette, your mother and I have been worried sick about you," Jeanine says, stepping toward me. Tris jerks as though she's about to attack her, but pauses. "Did you find Ryan?"

"I - I…"

Jeanine's hand continues to swipe and type commands as she looks at me.

"What is going on?" I manage to say.

Jeanine looks back at Tris, then says, "They attacked us. Look at what Tobias did to your mother, to Gwendolyn."

"They tried to kill us, Mimi!" Tris exclaims. "They've been trying to wipe out the Divergent from the start!"

That word chills me, and I want to run again. Instead I just keep standing there, staring. Gwen pushes herself up on her arms, looking at me. She's trapped under one of the metal shelves, and there's glass embedded in her skin.

"Mimi," Jeanine says in an even tone, it's strange to hear her call me that now, because it's not something just between the two of us, "go back outside, Ryan will come and retrieve you. We'll explain everything when we return to Erudite."

"Mimi, you can't trust her!" Tris cries. "It's her serum that's controlling the Dauntless!"

"What?"

Tris looks taken aback, Jeanine spreads her hands out in front of her in sort of a placating gesture. "Mimi, my dear, you're confused. Go wait for Ryan take you back home, your parents and I will explain everything then."

"Mimi," Four says through gritted teeth, "do you remember what I told you about listening?"

I look at Jeanine, and then Tris and Four, and then back again.

"I don't want to fight you, Mimi," Tris says.

Tris has never given me a reason not to trust her, she's my best friend. And if she and Four are awake, that means they're Divergent, like me.

But Jeanine has never given me a reason not to trust her either, no matter what Tris says. She's practically my family and I love her.

But Tris is my friend, and I love her too.

The choice should be obvious.

It's not though.

"Mimette," Gwendolyn calls to me. "You know what the right thing to do is."

She's right. I do know what the right thing to do is. But the question is, do I want to do it?

And that's not a question I have the answer to. Tris is my friend, Jeanine is my family.

I _know_ the right thing to do.

I step further into the room, my body strangely light. All of this feels so surreal, like I'm still asleep and about to wake up any minute now. Tris and I exchange glances, her expression confused and almost scared. Four is glaring I think if he were not doubled over in pain from whatever happened to him he would force me to choose. I approach Jeanine, planting myself between her and Tris, and she pauses in whatever she was doing. She takes my hands in hers and squeezes them. I can barely manage a squeeze back; I'm not shaking, instead I am very, very still.

"Do you trust me, Mimette?"

I don't even have to really think about it. It's not a choice. "I do."

"Mimi, you can't!" Tris exclaims and I don't even look back at her.

"Go home. Ryan has been looking for you. He'll take you to your father."

I give a shallow nod, every muscle in my body uncomfortably stiff. "Okay."

She wears a ghost of a smile and squeezes my hands again. "That's my girl. Don't worry too much about your mother and I." She glances at Tris over my shoulder. "We'll handle these _children_."

"She was my friend," I mutter.

"Mimi!" Tris screams again, real horror in her voice.

"What's that?" Jeanine asks.

"She's my friend," I say a little louder.

"No," she says in a very measured tone, like a mother correcting a young child. "She was your friend. You trust me, remember, and look at what they did to your mother. They are not your friends."

_Four has never been my friend_, I almost say, but can't quite force the words past my lips. I think I'm done talking, for the time being at least. I also know that the moment I step away, Tris will attack her or me. Still, I let go in a jerky, nearly robotic movement and turn away. I take two and a half steps before Tris grabs my arm.

"How could you?" she sounds so hurt, and as Jeanine turns back to the terminal indescribably smug all I can see is the hurt in her eyes. She squeezes my arm too tight and the cold blade is held between us, pressed to my arm.

I have no answer for her. I see her glance at the knife and wonder briefly if she will kill me to keep me from defending Jeanine. Four can barely stand much less take care of the job himself, it will be up to her if I get to walk away. She begins to tremble, digging her barely-there nails in and then letting go abruptly and shoving me away.

My footsteps are the loudest sound in the room, the only thing that I hear as I walk back toward the door. But I'm paused again by my foot making contact with something. I look down and find a gun.

"Pass it to me, Mimette," Gwendolyn hisses. "I can end this now."

Part of my foot comes to rest on top of it, hesitating as it lies just out of her reach. I know that Tris and Four have no chance. Even with her like this, the fact still stands that she can shoot them and they can't shoot back. Gwendolyn hisses my name again and I stare down at the gun beneath my foot, how strange the dark metal looks against the white floor. I could end this too, pick it up and finish this myself.

But I know what the right thing to do is.

I know.

"I'm sorry." Like I'm suddenly brought back to life, suddenly I'm trembling, I can feel my heart racing and suddenly I feel as though I need to double over and vomit.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Gwendolyn says, quickly but no less sincerely. "You're doing the right thing, you just have to trust us. I love you, your parents love you, just pass me the gun."

"No." I look down at her. "I'm _sorry_."

Rather than sliding it toward her, I slide my foot back, sending it sliding across the floor, over the step, all the way into the cement part of the room. I get a single glimpse of Gwendolyn's horrified expression before I bring my foot down on her head the way I watched Peter knock out Tris a lifetime ago. She goes almost alarmingly still, her arm still outstretched and her fingers curled. Her cheek splits from the blow and I step away, turning, nearly stumbling. I barely look at them before I turn around again and I'm running. Running where I still don't know, just not here. I push hard off the doorway and almost trip over my own feet twice when I'm running down the hallway. My breathing is ragged and I'm dizzy, I don't know what I expected to happen when I did that. I can't speculate, I can barely form coherent thoughts.

I don't know my way around. I don't know where the exit is. I'm just running down hallway after winding hallway lost, and terrified, and not really thinking straight. Suddenly I'm too hot and too cold at the same time, barely able to stand, and sick to my stomach; just like my fear simulations. But I always knew whether those were real or not, there was always _something_ that defied logic just a little too much for me to be fooled into believing it. This, this is either different or exactly the same. There's a part of me that repeats that this can't be happening, that there's no way that I just did that, that I must be losing my mind. But I also know that this is entirely too real. I'm not an initiate anymore, I didn't dream that. I'll never do another fear sim again if I don't want to, and I really don't want to. Which only leaves me with the option that this is real, and that I just hurt someone who only ever loved me.

I find stairs that lead up and I burst outside under the shade of a balcony. This is where I spied on Max and Oliver Bree. I didn't know what was going on then, but I know now. And I guess now I stand somewhere in that issue, I've picked a side and betrayed my family in the process.

I press my back to the brick wall and sink to the ground as tears begin to run from my eyes and a soft sob escapes me. I curl in on myself and muffle my crying into my legs. I can still see Gwendolyn's shock and horror as I betrayed her.

I betrayed her.

And no one made me do it. I chose to hurt her, to turn my back on her and the rest of my family for my friends, for Dauntless. I didn't have to do it either, I very well could have just walked out and Ryan could be around any minute ready to take me home whether I want to or not. But now my family knows where I stand; Jeanine knows that I'm Divergent and if Tris is even a little bit right then I'm _fucked_.

I bury my head in my knees and scream, it fades into hysterical sobbing and I can't bring myself to care too much if someone finds me.

But I can never go back to Erudite, whether Tris was telling me the truth or not I can't face my family again. I scrape my hair back from my face and clench my teeth. My head aches and I feel sick, too much like when Al died and this time no one's coming. Belladonna is who knows where, so are Will and Christina, Tris and Four might not even survive. Does it even matter?

What am I saying? Of course it matters. Tris is my friend and she matters to me; apparently she matters even more to me than my family. Not enough for me to go back in there though, not enough for me to really fight for them. I don't know how I ever did what I did back there, I don't think I could ever do it twice. I would sooner lose a limb than have to face Jeanine and my family again, face what I've done up close. How could I? How could I when they're supposed to mean everything to me? How could I when they _do_ mean everything to me?

Forget what Tris and Jeanine have done; what have _I_ done?


	47. Chapter 47: End of the Beginning

**Tris**

Jeanine, in her surprise, is completely still, seeming to forget about the moment at hand entirely. She stares horrified at the exit Mimi left through and for a moment her mask crumbles like when Tobias choked her and she looks hurt. But then she whirls back around to the screen and the moment is gone. Mimi is too, again. If I ever see her again depends on whether I can stop Jeanine and get out of here alive. I might not be able to kill her right now, but I have to stop her.

I flip the knife in my hand over so that I'm holding the blade. Her back is turned, the threat I pose seeming to mean nothing when she can make my whole reason for coming here meaningless. But I can't let her do that. I pull the knife back and let it fly. It lands dead center of her right hand and the glass screen cracks. It pins her but she doesn't scream, she doesn't do anything. I run toward her and jerk the knife out, this time I'm close enough to hear her guttural groan of pain and her eyes widen as I press the blade against her throat. She's not stupid enough to fight me in the position that she's in.

Instead, she speaks. "I admire how willing you seem to die for what you believe in, but so am I."

I dig the edge of the blade in just enough to draw a bit of blood like I watched Carolina do to Tobias. "Shut it down."

"You can't do it, can you?" Her voice doesn't betray any fear if she feels it. "You're not going to kill me."

I want to prove her wrong, like I proved Peter wrong, like I proved Eric wrong. But my hands start trembling and I shove her away, taking the knife from her throat. She balances herself against the terminal and chuckles, not exactly the reaction I was expecting. But there's a strange look in her eyes; amused in a manic sort of way.

"Perhaps you're not as Dauntless as you think you are," she says and I know she's goading me, but I also know that she's right. The idea of killing even one more person today is enough to make me want to scream.

Then something hard hits my thigh and clatters to the ground. I hiss and look over in Tobias' direction. He's sitting down against one of the terminals close to Carolina. His face is getting paler by the minute and his eyes seem bleary. He nods his head and I look down at the floor, he threw me an injector. He holds up a vial with amber liquid inside; the attack serum. Just within an arm's reach is Gwendolyn's cracked tablet. He tosses me the vial and I put it in the injector.

"You're right," I say to Jeanine. "I'm not Dauntless. I'm Divergent." I use her hair to turn her head to the side and stab the needle into her neck, injecting the serum into her bloodstream. I see her eyes widen for a split second before they glaze over and I let go, carefully watching as she stands straight and still.

"Now shut it down, and wipe the program," I say.

Tobias grabs Gwendolyn's tablet and I have no idea what he does, but she responds to the sound of my voice. She turns and with the hand she can still use starts to do something else on the screen. I worry that this might not have worked, that I just handed her the ability to finish her work. But a window to enter in a code pops up and she types it in, then all at once the other screens go dark. She seems to become aware again too, no longer moving like she's asleep and I know that it worked.

"No," she says, horrified as she realizes what she's done. "No, no!" She tries to reactivate it, but the program is gone and she touches her fingers to where I injected her. I expect her to attack me, so when she turns on me I waste no time driving my elbow into her jaw as hard as I possibly can. Her eyes roll back and she drops.

I cross the room to Tobias, taking the tablet from him and breaking it over my knee, then throwing the two halves down and further shattering it. I help him to his feet as much as I can and then we hear a groan from the floor. Carolina is beginning to come to, her eyes not yet open but her arm stretching out like she's reaching for something.

"We have to get out of here," Tobias says, his voice weak. "Once they figure out what happened they'll come back here."

I nod and we move as quickly as we can out the way I came in. He's heavy and supporting a lot of his weight on me, making it hard for either of us to move. But the large wet spot on his side spurs me faster. He presses his hand hard against it, but it's not doing much to stop his bleeding.

We make it down the hall to where all the others are waiting and Tobias' breath hitches at the sight of his father, who looks equally astonished. I know that I should have told him, but it's not like we ever had the time.

Confusion passes over Marcus' face, then recognition. Terrible recognition, "A-"

"Now's really not the time," I interrupt for Tobias' sake. "We have to get out of here, someone's bound to be back here soon and I really don't think we want to be here when that happens." I don't have the time to explain everything that happened, so I don't.

My father and brother help Tobias move more quickly and Marcus, Peter, and I run up ahead. I wish that we could leave them here, I'm sure that Tobias does too. Both Peter and my father have makeshift bandages made from gray cloth that must have been made by Caleb.

"So what the hell happened?" Peter says.

"Language," Marcus mutters.

I pull a face, surprised he thinks that I would tell him anything.

"Turn here," Tobias says through a pained groan. "Up the stairs is an exit."

For Tobias, going up the stairs must be a painful experience. For my father and Caleb it's a harrowing one. The hallway isn't wide enough for the three of them to walk side by side and Tobias is starting to become delirious from blood loss, stumbling over the steps and almost falling more than once. But we burst out the metal door next to the tracks and I almost trip over my own feet in surprise at the sight of another figure waiting there already. Mimi turns around looking at us like a scared animal, her eyes bloodshot and ringed with red. She takes a small step back and I run forward, throwing my arms around her. I can hear her heavy breathing in my ear and it sounds like she's suppressing the urge to sob. We hold each other as tight as we can until I hear the tracks rattling in the distance.

"Are they dead?" her voice is rough and barely audible, suddenly her eyes won't meet mine.

"No." I don't tell her that I wish they were, that I regret not killing Jeanine already.

She doesn't brighten at that, but she does wipe the tears from her eyes and nods.

When the train approaches, we start to run and getting Tobias on takes all of us pushing and pulling him through the doors. But he makes it and tips forward, draping himself over Caleb who flails under his dead weight until Peter helps him. My father and Marcus both make it on a little easier this time and I'm the last one. Mimi reaches out to me and even though Dauntless has made me wary of accepting help, the pain in my arm inspires me to just this once let her help me. She pulls me on by my good arm and we stand in the doorway, dangerously close to the edge. Somewhere in the background, I can hear my father directing Caleb in how to help him stop Tobias' bleeding. In my periphery, Marcus is pacing back and forth across the car and Peter is just sitting against a box, his head tipped back and his eyes closed.

"Where do we go now?" Mimi asks.

"Amity," I reply. "They'll take us in."

"Oh."

"You have a brother there, right?" I recall the incredibly tall man in red and yellow who came on Visiting Day, who greeted Mimi when we took our field trip to the fence.

"Yeah. Cousins too." Something in her face tells me that family is really the last thing that she wants to be talking about right now. She leans against the entrance opposite me, folding her arms and staring out at the now blue sky. The sun is up and nothing will ever be the same again. Today a war was declared on Abnegation and the Divergent; I lost my homes, both of them, Mimi lost her family. She lost her boyfriend too, but she doesn't know it yet.

I reach my hand out the opening, feeling the wind run through my fingers as the train starts to pick up speed.

"Tris," she says after a long silence.

"Yeah?"

"Do you…do you think that Will and Christina are okay?"

I try not to cringe, I don't know how to tell her what happened to Will. How does someone tell their best friend that they just murdered their boyfriend? How is that a question I even have to ask myself?

"I do," I lie. "We'll see them again." I look into her eyes and there's something lifeless about them. I can't promise her that, I don't actually know if Christina's okay. But I know where Will is, and I know that I can never face Mimi and tell her that.

She nods and tears begin to fill her eyes again. I hug her partially to comfort her, partially because I know that if I look at her face any longer then I'm going to start crying too. She shudders hard and buries her face in the crook of my neck.

I'm not sure how long we stay like that, the train slowly rocking us back and forth as we embrace. I know that swaying too far to the right would spell the end for both of us. And what a way to go, how completely anticlimactic.

But eventually, she lifts her head. "Go see your boyfriend."

I don't tell her that it was her mother who was responsible for the situation he's in now. Instead, I unwrap my arms but then put my hand on her shoulder as I'm walking away. "It's gonna be okay."

"I hope you're right." She walks toward the other side of the car, sitting in the shaded corner and curling into a ball. I sit down next to Tobias, who's been laid out on the floor and now has another makeshift bandage wrapped around his chest.

"It's not perfect," Caleb says. "But it'll hold at least until we get to Amity."

I nod. "Guess that's all we can really ask for."

"We'll give you some time alone," my father says, leading Caleb away. The two of them separate to opposite ends of the car after a few steps; my father going to sit by Marcus, and Caleb going to sit down next to Peter, who levels his head again as he sits down.

"Hi." I lean over Tobias, trying at a smile and having it come out as more of a grimace. I run my hand over his hair and the fog seems to lift from his eyes at the sound of my voice. He brushes a section of my hair that was tickling his nose behind my ear.

"We should probably get you a hairtie or something," he says almost teasingly. I snort, a full laugh bubbling up in my chest and it sounds more mournful than I meant it when I let it come. It's either laugh or cry at this point and one is far easier than the other, if a little inappropriate. I notice the others turning toward me, shooting me confused glances. But I can't help but feel like this is exactly what my other friends would do; laugh, make light of a horrible situation like we did with initiation because there was nothing else we could do. Because even if maybe there is something, I haven't found it yet.

"Probably," I say when I'm able to collect myself again. Then I sigh, feeling that sadness grip my chest again. Quietly, like it's a secret, I say, "I lost my home today. I did things that I can't ever take back." I shiver. "I might have started a war."

He reaches up to put his hand on my shoulder. "We did this. Together." That doesn't make it any better, but I don't say that. "But we did the right thing."  
I nod, blinking away tears.

"We're gonna figure this out. Fight again if we have to."

I lean down and kiss him, ignoring Caleb's – or at least it came from Caleb's direction – gasp. I don't care if Marcus and my father can see us. I don't care about Peter's presence. All of that just seems unimportant right now, with his lips on mine.

We didn't win today. Not really, we shut down the simulation but Jeanine and all the people important to her plan are still breathing, there are still hundreds of Abnegation dead probably. We're factionless fugitives and I don't know what we're supposed to do now. Marcus seems confident Amity will take care of us, but I don't exactly trust Marcus whether he's on our side or not. I don't trust Peter either; but here he is, making quiet small talk with my brother with an exhausted tone to his voice. We don't have anything anymore; we all lost our homes, jobs, families. I count myself lucky that I still have mine, Mimi doesn't and Tobias is better off without his. But somewhere in Amity my mother is waiting for us, worrying probably and getting to see her again is just another reason to be glad that we're still breathing.

Still, I can't bring myself to feel good about any of this. We stopped the immediate problem, but we've also angered Erudite now and I have no doubt that they'll come after us with everything they have; no matter what they do, no matter who they have to hurt.

I could get other people killed; I will have to kill other people again. It scares me to death, and when I think about it all I can see are Will's wide open, lifeless eyes.

I'm scared. I don't want to admit that to anyone, even to myself, but I don't know what to do and it scares me. It scares me more that they seem to look to me, everyone does. They expect me to lead them, and I will, but I have no idea if I can really lead them well. I'm not a general, I wouldn't even call myself a soldier. I don't fall in line and I don't give orders either. All I want is to fight, fight for the things that I believe in.

"Tris," Tobias whispers between breaths.

"Yeah?"

"I take it that you have no idea what we're doing next?"

"Do I ever?" I've relied too much on his guidance, on my parents' guidance, pulling me along so that I don't tremendously mess up and get us all killed. Even back in the control room, I was only able to stop Jeanine by taking cues from him.

"Do any of us?"

I almost want to laugh again, because he's right. We've been at peace for five hundred years almost. It's not like any of us have ever fought like this before. Dauntless training can only do so much and half of us don't even have that.

They get it, because they have to. Like I said, we don't have the time to worry over what's crossing arbitrary lines. I crossed lines Abnegation set out for me in Dauntless, I crossed the lines that Dauntless set out for me today. Those lines my father talked about are drawn by wherever you are and today I am technically nowhere; I have no faction, the lines he was talking about don't exist for me.

I don't belong to any one faction or any one place. I don't need those lines drawn out for me and don't want them to be. Tobias and I, Mimi and I, my mother and I, we can't be confined to one box or one label.

I'm not Dauntless.

I'm not Abnegation.

I'm Divergent.

**Mimi**

_November 11__th_ _Year 449,_

_This journal is all I have left of Dauntless unless you want to count the clothes on my back. Everything else got left behind in the dorm room. I don't know why I took this, maybe because it just felt right, maybe because I need somewhere to put all of this own so I don't go insane, maybe because if I never see Will again then at least I have this to remind me of him. I have nothing to remind me of Christina, nothing but memories when she could be dead._

_I won't pretend like I have nothing left; I have Tris, if all of my other friends – if my partners are both dead – then at least I have Tris. But my family, well they're all gone for good. I betrayed them; they won't forgive me and I don't deserve to be forgiven. I hurt people who only ever loved me and I can't give myself a reason why. Every one I come up with seems trivial or just wrong. I don't know when I decided that I trusted Tris more than Jeanine. It wasn't really a conscious choice, it was more like…something I guess I figured out at some point, now that all of these pieces have come together to form one horrifying puzzle. Jeanine never did say she wasn't trying to wipe out the Divergent, that Tris was lying about that. And if she's right – I absolutely have to believe that she's right – then she was going to kill me at some point._

_She knows now; she knows that I'm Divergent and it's going to get me killed. I signed my own death warrant by walking into that room and basically revealing myself. Now it's just a matter of who kills me._

_My mother didn't see any of what I did, but she'll know. Jeanine will tell her, and I can't say what she'll do. I am not afraid of her, she's never given me a reason to be. But it's not like she can protect me, it's not like she has a reason to. She wants to eradicate the Divergent just as much as Jeanine and I'm so afraid to admit to myself that that would involve killing me too._

_Since the beginning, I was told that Divergence was dangerous. Maria tried her best to warn me and I didn't listen, Four tried to warn me but the guy speaks in riddles and I didn't understand. And I didn't understand, and I didn't understand, and I missed all the things going on right in front of me. Maybe that's what Four meant, I suppose he was right. I don't know what's happened, everything was fine right up until this morning, or at least that's what I'd thought. It's not like Jeanine had ever given me a reason not to trust her before. I loved her; I still love her. I love all of my family and I can't get that image of my mother crumpled on the floor out of my mind, Gwendolyn's wide black eyes out of my mind. I want to tell myself that there's nothing else I could have done but I know that's not true. I could have done as Jeanine asked, walked away and waited for Ryan to come for me. I might already be home by now if I had but instead I am here and probably by sundown my whole family will know what I've done. How can I face Mark and my cousins in Amity knowing that? How will Melanie react when she finds out how I hurt her fiancée? I had always cared for Gwendolyn before, she melted right into my family and was like yet another sister to me. My family was supposed to mean everything to me but look where I am now?_

_Or is Dauntless supposed to be my family? Well that's inaccurate because what Tris and the rest of us are isn't Dauntless, we're a bunch of scared idiots (some more than others) who won't last long. There's not a chance in hell that we get away with this, Tris and Four murdered people the others probably did too. I'm an accomplice in all of this now because suddenly all the love I've had for my family apparently doesn't count when it matters. I know that I was supposed to side with them, I love them and I trust them, but I couldn't get that nagging out of my head as I was reminded of everything I've seen. Any assurance at all from Jeanine might have swayed me, maybe it would have been a lie but I would have taken it at face value because I trust her. I've always trusted her and I still can't quite pair the impressions together. I have always known that the image she projects isn't really real, that underneath it all she was like a second mother to my siblings and I and a great friend to my parents. I have never believed it when people called her cruel, I'm not even really sure if I believe it now. Four and Belladonna keep telling me that I don't listen but I don't think they see the way that I do. I see the people they despise as they really are, as the very human humans I adore._

_Maybe I'm the cruel one._

_It would make sense. I've always tried to be nice but that's not the same as being kind. Maybe I'm just skewed on the inside; a traitor. I keep trying to wrap my mind around that word, to betray is one thing but to be a traitor is another I guess. They're supposed to go hand in hand but I don't want to be a traitor, I'm afraid of being a bad person even though I might be already there._

_But that doesn't matter now, does it? After what happened, I guess it doesn't really matter what I feel for my family because I betrayed them anyways. It doesn't matter what I think of myself because I'm not the person who really gets to decide whether or not I'm a traitor. It will crush my parents to find out what I did, Gwendolyn will wake up in pain because of me, whether or not Mark looks at me like I'm a monster rests entirely on how soon they decide to disclose the details of what happened to them. I'm so afraid of being a monster._

_I'm so afraid. I don't know what I'll do when I get to Amity._

_I don't know what I'll do in general. But I guess I'll just have to trust myself._


	48. Chapter 48: A Brewing Storm

**Erudite**

To say that Carolina wasn't pleased with the way that things were would be a gross understatement. The way things were now _never_ should have been this way. After all the time they had spent planning this, all the sacrifices that had been made, it was almost insulting how a teenager managed to slip through their fingers. How two of them did, and how it brought the whole thing crashing to the ground. All because she had let Max assure her over and over that they were doing their jobs, that they didn't need her to have anyone else oversee their work. It was her own fault really, exactly what she deserved for putting her faith in them.

And look where it had gotten them; decades of work made meaningless by one girl. Not to say that she didn't have a plan, she always had a plan. This wasn't over, they had never banked on failure but they would have to had be a very special kind of stupid to keep only one copy of the attack serum program. She, and Jeanine, and Gwendolyn would recover.

However, it didn't mean they shouldn't have just killed Marcus' son when they had the chance. But, of course, Jeanine just had to figure out how to control the Divergent, to jump that little hurdle in their minds and turn them into willing puppets just like everyone else. It was genius, and every experiment requires something to experiment _on_. But she personally would have much rather seen him dead, and every time her head throbs it on drives that desire in deeper.

As she walks down the hall she feels like she's swaying in her heels; every step bringing on a brand new wave of nausea and the painkillers not doing much to rid her of the searing pain on the back of her head. She couldn't even look at a screen without feeling nauseated. John had read off the Dauntless report to her as she'd gotten ready (he had to redo her hair too because he could see where her stitches were better than she could obviously; it was as sweet as it was embarrassing). Ryan would probably spend the next week or so following her around with her tablet when really there were so many other ways his time could be better spent. The doctors had tried to tell her to take a few days to rest and let herself recover, but there was too much work to be done to indulge in that kind of luxury. If she had to keep herself from passing out or throwing up again by sheer force of will, by god she would do it.

The fact that she's concussed with just have to wait.

She reaches a door at the end of the hallway and takes a second to collect herself before opening it. Jeanine is sitting underneath a blanket, a tablet propped up on her legs and her head snaps up at the sound of the door opening. She looks like a mess; a bruise blooming on the underside of her jaw, her eyes half glazed over from the strong painkillers, and her whole right hand wrapped tight in a bloodstained bandage. Still, she manages a smile.

"My Carolina, how's your head?"

She returns her smile, closing the door behind her and walking further into the room to sit on the edge of Jeanine's bed. "I'm fine, don't worry about me." She intertwines her hand with Jeanine's good one. "How are you?"

"I'll live. Where's John?"

"I sent him along to deal with the press; I figured that's what you'd want. He was rather reluctant about leaving us though, said to tell you that he sends his love."

"How sweet. I trust that he's filled you in on everything that happened."

She frowns. "He has."

"So then, tell me, what has to be done? I'm going into surgery in a few hours, then my hand will be redressed and I'll be sent back home to rest. So tell me what has to be taken care of now?"

"The Dauntless for starters," Carolina says.

Jeanine grimaces, "Ah yes, would you be so kind as to take care of my meeting with Max and Eric?"

"Of course," Carolina says. "And then there are the others, what we will say?"

"We will tell them the story of a tragedy, our most pious faction lost to the bloodthirsty Divergent."

"I've already begun preparing your speech. Sharp and Diarmond will need press releases before…mmm, let's say Monday. And there will need to be a televised statement filmed and broadcast by the same deadline. Support Crew has already begun the work on that."

"Good."

"Excavation in the Abnegation sector will begin as soon as the Candor investigators are out of our hair."

"Wonderful."

"Michael and Gwendolyn's teams are making leaps and bounds on the detection software, at the pace they're moving the team should have the prototype completed and tested by next Wednesday and – provided all goes well – in production by the twenty-first."

"Make it the eighteenth and we'll be golden."

"I took the liberty of bumping the new staff's first day up to tomorrow. But I wanted to get your opinion on taking on the spares full time as well. It's not like we couldn't use the extra hands."

She hums in thought. "You think they can be trusted?"

"I think they can be persuaded. They have no stake in this fight and no reason not to trust us."

"Then I trust you can take care of it. Anything else?"

Carolina pauses for a moment before saying, "I believe that covers everything."

"No, it doesn't." Jeanine squeezes her hand.

"Oh? What have I missed?"

"Mimette," Jeanine says.

Carolina squeezes her hand. "Yes. Regrettable. But we will leave her…for now."

"Oh?" Jeanine raises her eyebrows.

"As much as it pains me to say this, with Prior's daughter, she is safe."

"Who can say for how long though? Beatrice does have quite the reputation for turning on her friends. And we will have to hunt them down eventually."

"Yes, so we send someone with them. Someone Mimette likes, someone she can trust, someone who will coax her back."

"Interesting strategy. Do you think it will work?"

"Have my plans ever failed before?"

"No." Carolina smirks when she says that. "Do you have someone in mind?"

"A few people. I will make my choice before the week is out, depending on which person I choose we will find a way for them to make contact with Mimette."

"And she will just go along, after what happened in Dauntless?"

"I think that Mimette is afraid and confused. She doesn't know what to think or who to trust. She will be desperate for any familiar face offering their help."

"Sounds like you've got the matter handled."

"I do."

"Good, I'll call you as soon as I'm done here."

"Wonderful." She stands.

"Oh, my Carolina, wait a minute." Jeanine says holding onto her hand.

"Yes?"

"You're forgotten something." She tugs gently on Carolina's hand to draw her close again.

"And what's that?" She sits down on the bed again, her mind already moving at a mile a minute as she reorganizes her plans to suit Jeanine's orders. But she's distracted when Jeanine lets go of her hand and takes her chin in her delicate fingers. Carolina follows her gentle pull and their lips meet.

"That," Jeanine says when they part.

Carolina's quiet for a moment before she breaks down into giggles. She never really did like to part from either of her spouses without a kiss but having a thousand things on her mind and a concussion had sort of distracted her. Still, it was funny that Jeanine, even in the state she was in, pulled her back to remind her.

"You're such a sap," she says as her laughter tapers off.

Jeanine cocks her eyebrow. "Is that a problem?"

"No." She drapes her arms over Jeanine's shoulders. "Because you're _my_ sap."

"So don't complain." She kisses her again, her hand gliding down to rest on the back of Carolina's neck.

"I love you." Jeanine says when they part again.

"I love you too." She gives her a kiss on the tip of her nose. "Call me when you get released, ok?"

"Mhm. Thank you again for taking care of my meetings, good luck." Jeanine knows fixing the mess Beatrice and Tobias made of their plans wouldn't be easy, would be even harder with her out of commission for the rest of the day at least. All that they could be glad for was that it wasn't both of them, leaving everything in John and Support Crew's very capable hands wasn't the worst thing they could do but it wasn't something they wanted to.

"Get some rest." Carolina stands and tucks a loose curl behind her ear. She gives Jeanine one last smile before turning to leave, her worry no longer pressing on her chest quite so heavily.

Call her fussy, overprotective, but she couldn't not be at least a little pedantic about Jeanine's wellbeing. Which was exactly why she would make Beatrice and Four suffer for what they'd done. A failed plan could be revised, damaged parts could be rebuilt, but a slight against her pride and the pain they caused Jeanine could only be paid in blood. She was not a needlessly cruel person; their deaths had been originally intended to be quick and as painless as they could be. But now they'd made her job harder, her life in general harder and for that they would have to pay. There wasn't anything she wouldn't do for Jeanine, at her behest or to protect her, she would and had killed for her. It wasn't something she truly reveled in, but had to be done nonetheless and this was no different. The blood she would spill could not be avoided; if anything, Beatrice and Four had ensured there would be more of it than she or Jeanine had ever originally intended. This setback, no matter how minor, was more than inconvenient and deeply annoying. To have been injured as she is was embarrassing enough, to have Beatrice and Four get away was rubbing salt into the wound. But it is not her fault. This failure is Eric and Max's to deal with because it is their people's incompetence that caused this whole issue to blow up. Her faith in their skill may have been misplaced but that did not cancel out the fact that every problem she's dealing with at the moment is on them.

They had been assured that Beatrice – deviance aside – was well handled. With this in mind, she and Jeanine had ensured that Beatrice was not to be kicked out of Dauntless. They were going to give her a chance to prove herself useful. Instead, she threw a wrench in a plan they had worked on for years, a plan that had manage to survive decades, that became their entire lives. Their plan had cost many, many others their jobs, lives, dignity; all those who couldn't prove useful were cut loose. All of that to be brought down by a reckless teenage girl who can hardly be considered a soldier, and her lapdog of a boyfriend.

She remembered Four from two years ago when his initiation simulations began to go awry. They'd payed a little visit to Dauntless to investigate, much to the fury of the leader at the time. In the process they'd managed to catch the boy's initiation instructor up in all of it. They'd left him alone, Max having sworn up and down that he was keeping an eye on him. It seemed that the two years between then and now had given him time to stew in his anger and cultivate a hatred for them. One that he'd apparently passed on to his young girlfriend; though she is Andrew Prior's daughter, so she doubts that he really had to do that much work.

They were oversights; underestimation and reasonable doubt left to fester into true problems, a reminder that they should never have slackened their grip on Max and Eric's agency. If their predecessors could see them now they'd be ashamed, they may have boosted Max to his place but they'd never but so much faith in his skills. Granted, he was never supposed to play the role that he does. Understudy would be a gross understatement, he was meant to play a different role entirely.

So much for sticking to plans. Perhaps this was karma.

She pulls into the parking garage of Erudite Tower and walks to the elevator. She reaches the top floor and walks down the hallway to Jeanine's office, where Max and Eric are waiting. But before she can reach the door John catches her by her shoulders.

"How's Jeanine?" His glasses sit on top of his head, creating cowlicks in his hair that make him look as frazzled as his wide brown eyes suggest.

"Going into surgery soon. I'm to take care of her meeting with Max and Eric. Oh, remind me to make time for an All Hands Meeting. It seems needed, wouldn't you figure?"

"Mhm." He kisses her on the cheek.

"Done with the press so soon?" she asks.

"Sharp and her staff. There's still the Candor to be dealt with before they can get ahold of any rumors. That's where I'm headed."

"Ah, thus the look." The Candor taped interviews and statements to play them back later and John didn't like to be on camera without his trademark red lipstick.

"Indeed."

"Well, you look wonderful. Good luck."

"You too. I love you." He wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her in for a quick kiss.

"I love you too."

They go their separate ways; John plucking his glasses from his head and sliding them into his pocket, mentally rehearsing all the lies that the Candor won't be able to see through, and Carolina dropping her smile and once again re-triaging all that needed to be done now. There were cover-ups, and the council, and the Dauntless, and these injuries they hadn't counted on.

They'd all had had a very long two years – even longer if you counted the decades of setup that went into all of this – and due to this little hitch in their plans they would have a very dire few months ahead of them. The work they would do in these following months would outweigh much of what they'd done over those years and years of setup, even as their plot gained its own momentum recently it didn't compare to this. Every step they made now decided fates in no uncertain terms.

But she had her plans. She knew exactly what she was going to do. She had built a life for herself and nothing was ever going to take it away from her. She was never going to leave, she was never going to fold. They couldn't possibly lose, not when they had all the contingencies in the world and nothing they couldn't recover from. With their numbers, her plans, John's people skills, Jeanine's absolute control, they had the advantage and she intended to hold onto it.

This was just how things were always going to be.

She opens the door to Jeanine's office where Eric and Max are waiting rather impatiently. Max stands stiffly next to one of the chairs and Eric paces across the floor. Eric's head snaps toward her the moment she opens the door.

"Where's-" Max starts.

"She's indisposed," Carolina cuts him off.

"Look, about the Stiff it's-" Eric begins.

She sighs and holds up her hand to silence him. "I don't care how it happened or what your excuse is, but I want it taken care of."

"And we will. I will personally make sure of it." Eric assures her and there's more than a hint of a snarl in his voice.

The Prior girl isn't a threat, not really; on her own she could be easily subdued. But when combined with others she poses an unprecedented danger; she is a dangerous idea, she embodies the notion that Jeanine and Erudite are somehow not as powerful as they appear to be. She is not just a threat to the tangible pieces of their plan. She is a threat to their image, and image is everything. They couldn't have gotten away with anything close to what they've done if they didn't both possess the reputations that they do. Any sort of insinuation at all that they are not in control could be catastrophic, would leave people wondering, would allow people the illusion that they might somehow be able to leave. There were those who knew their place; like Max, Eric, and Lucy Sharp, who understood that to in any way disobey them would be to sign their own death warrants, either literal or societal. Then there were to ones who would be left wondering, who might actually try to leave. Carolina and Jeanine couldn't have that, they had to be in control. Anyone Tris Prior could gather would be disorganized at best. Erudite has the advantage, and they had to be sure to hold onto it.

"I'm sure you will," she says. "Now as for the rest of this matter-"

"My men await your orders." Max interrupts.

Carolina frowns at him, "Let me finish. Dr. Morgan and Dr. Malachite will make sure your members are aware of the circumstances. Eric, you will be taking a team and sweeping Abnegation for survivors and an artifact that Max will give you more details about when we're done here."

Eric nods and starts to walk out, but Carolina glares at him.

"Don't leave," she says, something deadly in her voice. Much to his internal shame, a shiver of fear runs through him. But Carolina looks to Max instead. "And you."

"And me?" Max says, pressing his lips together. He found Carolina just as threatening if not more. After all, he knows what she did to ensure his leadership position; he may not know how exactly she pulled it off, but she's never let him forget it.

"We are experiencing a setback, though it is minor it is not part of the deal."

"I know and I-"

"Stop."

Max closes his mouth, all but withering under Carolina's gaze. When Erudite collared Dauntless they kept an iron hold on him. The gravity of everything came and went in waves for him, but everyone knew that any hope he'd ever had of pulling out died with Azalea.

"When the artifact has been found, you will be heading up the search for any and all Divergent that may be hiding out amongst the various factions. Dr. Sorabella-Malachite will accompany you for the purpose of gathering data and field testing the detection equipment. He will also be there to ensure our success; unfortunately, Dr. Matthews and I simply cannot put our blind faith in you anymore."

He has to fight the urge to roll his eyes, thinking that there has never been anything blind about it. Erudite has kept an eye on Dauntless since the very start and the more years pass the more apparent it becomes that they don't trust him and his people to do anything at all.

"Okay."

"Hold up," Eric cuts in, "how exactly is a twenty-year-old Erudite meant to manage an entire squad of Dauntless soldiers? He doesn't know anything about strategy or combat. What does he know about leading anything?" He realizes a little late that this is Carolina's son he's talking about and that he just insulted him to her face. And judging by the look she's giving him, he's crossed another line.

"Max," she says, her voice terse.

"Yes?"

"You may go now. But remember, this little failure – this group of _children_ – they are your problem. Not ours. Fix it."

Max nods vigorously, wringing his hands.

She narrows her eyes and smirks, "Good. Erudite sure would hate to have to cut loose such a useful asset like yourself."

Max shifts, "I will see it done."

A cruel smile curls across Carolina's face, "Good. Now get out; I have something to discuss with your faction representative."

Max leaves the room in a hurry, not looking back at Eric at all and just thankful that it's not him taking the brunt of her anger.

"But speaking of useless," she continues as the door closes, "we do have you, Mr. Coulter. You've failed in your sole objective, you've insulted my children not once but twice now, _and_ you have the _gall_ to question the orders that I give you. Have you forgotten your place? That everything you have is because of Erudite?"

"No, I haven't forgotten my place, but you seem to have. You're not Erudite's leader, I work for Jeanine; if anything, you're my equal and I don't think you have much business ordering me around like I'm a guard dog."

"Oh, I think dogs are better trained than you." Her voice turns poisonous. She steps closer to him and then a searing pain shoots up his leg. Carolina grinds the heel of her shoe into his wounded foot. He groans aloud, his knee buckling. And she smiles. "You are _so_ arrogant. Exactly how valuable do you think that you are to us? I don't think that you quite remember the terms of your agreement with Dr. Matthews and I. You have your position because of us, because of _me_, and you are entirely too bold to truly understand that.

"I understand perfectly," he says through his labored breathing. "I'm a threat to you and it pisses you off."

She chuckles. "You're no threat to me. What pisses me off is your blatant disrespect for my authority and your inability to recognize the gravity of the situation you're in." Her sharp heel breaks the skin and he screws his eyes shut, choking back the urge to scream.

"I'm sorry," he says in one quick breath, cracking his eyes open again. "I'm so sorry. If you'll get off my foot, I'll leave now and I won't step out of line again." His breath quickens. "I'll find your girl. I promise."

She leans in close, still amused. "No. I'll find my girl. You will fall in line."

"Yes." He nods.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, Representative Malachite, I'll fall in line."

Her smile splits into a terrifying grin. "Good." She takes her foot off and takes a step back. "I look forward to seeing you make good on that promise."

He starts to limp out of the room, flushed with embarrassment and his breathing ragged.

"Oh, and Eric, one more thing."

He turns as best he can, trying not to look exasperated out of fear of making her angry again. He puts his hand against the wall by the door to steady himself and does his best to look like his shoe isn't filling with blood.

"You said it's Jeanine who you take orders from, right? Who do you think runs all of her ideas by?"

A chill runs down his spine as he limps out the door, thoroughly unsettled and something like fear in the pit of his stomach. He gives a stiff nod and leaves before she can stop him again. Whatever's managed to delay Jeanine, he just hopes it doesn't keep her long. Traitors are one thing; terrifying loyalty is something else entirely.

Gwendolyn sighs and runs a hand over her bruised cheek, which hurt too much to apply anything to cover it up. It looks terrible, and it hurts like a son of a bitch but there's nothing that she can do. She'll have to find a way to cover it before she has to interact with anyone at close range. The bruise is dark purple and dull yellow in some places with an ugly scab where her cheek split. She came to in the hospital with stitches on her legs and back in multiple places from where the glass from the shelf stabbed into her and black bruises all the way up and down from beneath her shoulder blades to her feet from the metal frame. Melanie was waiting at her side with Victoria, who had been pulled out of school to come see her. She'll be fine, in a lot of pain for the next couple of weeks, but she'll live. Her injuries aren't quite as severe as Jeanine's, who's hand may be damaged permanently, or even Carolina, who is severely concussed. But it was awful and undignified and it took three hours just to make herself presentable again. She was supposed to be untouchable, she'd crafted an image as Jeanine's shadow very carefully and deliberately. It may have gone to her head a little bit; and this is a painful reminder that even she is not invincible. And from the Dauntless dog and her own sister in law no less. Jeanine should have let her kill him when they'd had the chance, they'd lose valuable research but in the end they would all be better off.

He and the girl, whatever her name is, seem to be inseparable and obviously care very deeply for each other. She might think it was sweet if they weren't such nuisances.

But none of that matters right now; she and Melanie have a job to do. At the request of Carolina, they're taking over for her in explaining the situation to the Dauntless, in feeding them the lie that she and Jeanine had crafted. Gwendolyn has no issue with lying, with killing, with anything really. She can't.

The time for scruples was long over; now they have to work to do.

Under normal circumstances, she wouldn't have to do much of anything. She would stand in the back and assist with the technical side and exude quiet threat. She has never been a people person, her strengths lie in other areas. But these were not normal circumstances; with Jeanine temporarily out of commission, Carolina had to pick up the slack with the council, the council liaisons had to pick up the slack with the Erudite public, Support Crew was busy with all the other sprung leaks and doling out orders of their own, which left the responsibility of rationalizing what they've done to the Dauntless up to Gwendolyn and Melanie. Not like they didn't have other jobs to do or anything.

She is not a people person, Jeanine knows this, Carolina knows this, and yet here she is. Because they _trust her_, Carolina had said, because she is one of the greatest minds in the whole faction.

This was flattery; she's no master manipulator, but she could tell when she's being played. Carolina is afraid, she knows it; she is afraid that Gwendolyn is beginning to question her trust in hers and Jeanine's plans.

She didn't know what to do with that knowledge, just like she isn't quite sure what to do with the nagging thought in her mind that her parents' death very well may not have been an accident; so instead she just decides to tuck it away, ruminate over it later. Like she said, there was work to be done now.

"You're quiet." Melanie is clipping her microphone onto her dress as she talks, not looking at her.

"I'm always quiet."

She turns; her black hair shifting in a wave, "Something wrong?"

"No." She shakes her head. "No, I'm fine."

That's a lie, and she really doesn't like to lie to Melanie and tries not to. But there isn't a way to explain what a mess her thoughts are. Besides, she wouldn't understand. There isn't really a lot that they don't understand about each other but this would definitely be one of those things. Melanie has always been fiercely loyal to Jeanine and her cause, it kind of came with the territory of being a Malachite and a department head. Not only would she not be able to understand she would very likely tell the others. Of course, she would never intentionally put her in danger but she would protect this plan and her family even if that meant removing her – or more accurately having her removed from the plan.

"Are you in pain?" She moves closer.

"The pain is nothing. I'm lucky that Mimette didn't break my cheekbone."

"Or worse." The frown on her face says that she's been thinking about this for a while. "You know what one wrong kick could do? Bash in your skull. It may not have been her intent to kill you, but she certainly could have."

"Cut your sister some slack." She cups her jaw with both hands, tilting her head back just slightly to look up at her. "I'm fine."

"You're lucky."

"You know I don't believe in luck." She pulls her down for a kiss. Melanie wraps her arms around her neck just a little too tight. She's afraid too, like mother like daughter; scared for different reasons but scared nonetheless.

She pulls away first, standing on her toes as much as she can and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Perhaps I should invest in a pair of heeled boots," she murmurs, wobbling on her toes. Melanie laughs, putting her hands on her hips to steady her.

"I'd pick you up but…"

"Best not," she says with a chuckle.

"Best not," Melanie repeats, then kisses her again.

The pair finally separate when someone clears their throat behind them. A mousy looking Erudite man approaches them, seeming uncomfortably aware that he's interrupting.

"Pardon me." He rubs the back of his neck nervously.

"Spit it out," Gwendolyn says, the cold edge she's known for in her voice again.

"Ah, uh, um…They're ready for you." He points toward the doors.

Melanie pins Gwendolyn's mic to the lapel of her jacket, adjusting it until she's satisfied. "Are you ready?"

"After you."

They walk in unison as the doors slide apart to reveal a massive room, the mid-afternoon sunlight giving the white steel a particular shine and making the tens of thousands of black-clad bodies stand out even more. They pay no attention to the women on the balcony, busy talking amongst themselves; speculating on their situation, looking for loved ones, trying to figure out what's happened. The two of them look around at the crowd before them; Melanie at her mother's latest pawns, Gwendolyn at those who were once her mother's people – were once her people too.

This was why Carolina wanted her here; not because they trusted her or something stupid and sentimental like that, but because she was visibly her mother's daughter and on the off chance that that still counted for something they were going to take every advantage they could possibly get.

She sighs, looking out at the crowd. "Quiet."

The room doesn't quite go silent, pretty par for the course for Dauntless. But the majority turn their attention toward the balcony.

"As of this moment, Dauntless has allied with Erudite to protect our city from falling to war. Today a group of radical Divergent attacked and subsequently destroyed Abnegation. Your role in all of this, well from now on you take orders from us to fight them."

There's a beat of silence as she lets this information sink in. Then somewhere from the crowd someone shouts, "Well who the hell are you?!"

She freezes, looking like a deer in the headlights. Melanie chuckles, covering her mic to mutter. "Why don't you let the people person handle this, okay?"

Quietly, she breathes a sigh of relief. It's easier to, as Melanie says, stand back and look pretty.

She steps forward, smiling in a way too reminiscent of her mother. "We are the people who are going to protect this city and Dauntless is going to help us. Your leaders have already agreed to enter a partnership with us for the good of us all. From this day forward you will be housed within the Erudite Sector and be assigned as we please. We share a common threat, a group of people who buck the faction system and seek to destroy it. We call them the Divergent." She pauses for dramatic effect and murmurs ripple through the crowd, continuing even when she starts speaking again. "As I'm sure you've all heard, early this morning the faction of Abnegation was brutally slaughtered. We are working now to determine the whereabouts of the masterminds behind this tragedy, but what we can say for sure is that they were a group of Divergent extremists looking to cripple the faction system by attacking its weakest members. With most of the council leaders dead or missing, Erudite has stepped in to assume the responsibility of keeping order and Dauntless is obliged to help us do this. If you'll follow the Erudite staff along the walls, they'll show you your lodgings and give you your assignments. From this day until this threat has been neutralized, you will defer to Erudite's staff and leadership." That doesn't make them happy, mutters and some protests grow louder. Melanie glowers and snaps, "Quiet." Then the look is gone and she straightens, smiling. "If this doesn't appeal to you, if defending your city and upholding your faction's traditions isn't quite your cup of tea then by all means you're free to walk away." And the moment the words leave her mouth people start pushing through the crowd in search of an exit. "But leave knowing that you face expulsion from your faction for treason and will be tried for collusion with a criminal insurgency." That stops them dead and for once they're quiet. "Now that that's been settled, my associates on the floor with you will handle getting you all settled." They turn away in unison and Melanie smiles at her.

Their microphones cut out and the doors open and then shut tight behind them, cutting them off from the clamor of the other room.

"Do you think that will work?" She asks, her voice quiet as they continue down the hallway.

Melanie angles her head to look at her, her eyes glimmering and a smile still quirking at her lips. "Do you think that it won't?"

* * *

**A/N: ****And that's it! Thoughts? I of course have more planned but I think I'm going to take a break from this story for a little while so I can get it ready for print (yes, print! DM me for details) and plan the next books. Thank you so much for sticking with me so long and I'll see you in the future!**


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